The Tuatha Series: Beginnings
by onlymystory
Summary: A four part series about Stiles and Derek and the world they build together.
1. Chapter 1

Stiles flung his lacrosse equipment into the back of his jeep with a little more force than necessary. The time spent on the lacrosse field had worked as a distraction but it really didn't do any more than that. All of the things Stiles had told the guidance counselor still mattered.

"When you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until you black out." He knew how he'd continued. He talked about how you can't let anything in and made it seem like he was focused on Matt and yet that really wasn't the point.

She got that. She'd pulled a little more out of him, until he realized he was about to share the kind of secrets he rarely even let himself think about, let alone talk through with a high school counselor.

But the truth? The truth was glaring at him now that Scott had left. Because it kind of came right back to that. Even though they'd spent time practicing, Scott still cut their time short when Allison called. And even with Peter still out there (and an enigma) at that, Scott just took off without even helping Stiles pack up their shit.

It sounded stupid. But it just added to Stiles' burdens. He didn't want someone to remember him when his life was in danger. He wanted people to pay attention to him in the little moments. Anyone who could see, just for a few seconds, the way Stiles was breaking apart on the inside.

Who was he kidding? After being kidnapped by Gerard, no one had come for him. Hell no one even checked on him. The human didn't matter. Not unless they needed him.

Stiles was beyond sick of it and yet he couldn't tear himself away. Because if the pack didn't need him, the question became who did. He growled a little, surprising himself at the ferocity in the noise, and slammed the steering wheel in frustration.

Stiles pulled into his driveway, his dad's car wasn't there (shocker) and buried his face in his arms. He took several deep breaths, trying to tell himself to calm the fuck down. They still had problems to deal with. He could practically feel danger looming on the town and it didn't all lie with Peter Hale.

So Stiles did what he always did. He sat up, duct-taped his emotions and fears and heartbreak together, grabbed his keys and walked into his house.

He heated up some leftovers for dinner and cleaned up the dishes from the past few days and started a load of laundry. And then he figured he'd sleep, as much as he possibly could, despite the fact that every time he closed his eyes he could see Gerard's face looming at him, promising all manner of destruction.

It took a few minutes for him to drift off but the exhaustion took over. Unfortunately, so did the nightmares. Barely an hour had passed before Stiles was tossing and turning, screaming in his sleep. He kept twisting the covers as he moved, trapping himself and causing him to struggle more in his dream state. And through it all he could hear Gerard's laughter. Stiles was shaking in his sleep, cowering in the corner of his room.

"Stiles."

Stiles shook.

"Stiles!"

The voice didn't sound like Gerard's. Something in a coherent process of Stiles' brain processed that and was trying to get him to wake up and figure out who it was.

"Stiles! Wake up!"

Whoever was screaming at him was now gently shaking him, trying to coax him out of his nightmare.

Stiles flailed, reaching out to strike at the person touching him, still half-asleep. His hand slapped against a rough surface, almost like sandpaper, and that sensation was enough to fully wake him up.

"Derek?" he asked in a whisper, trying to figure out why Derek was in his room.

"Yeah. Are you awake now or do I need to let you hit me a few more times?" said the Alpha, though he didn't have his usual scowl when he said it.

Stiles shook his head, though he wrapped his arms around himself and shuddered. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," answered Derek, as though the answer was completely obvious.

"Why?"

"Because as insane as the last few months have been, I have noticed how much you deal with Stiles. Scott said he left you earlier and I figured someone should make sure you were okay."

"You could have made Isaac come over here," snapped Stiles, a little of his spark returning. If he was going to be a check mark on a chore list, he'd rather have someone with a little more empathy.

Derek frowned. "Isaac's busy researching a rival pack with Peter."

Stiles couldn't help himself. He shuddered in fear.

Derek's arm reached out and wrapped itself around Stiles' shoulders. "He can't get to you, Stiles."

Stiles shook his head. "You don't know that," he whispered, so quietly he wasn't sure even Derek's wolf hearing caught it.

"Yes, I do," came the reply. "I won't let him."

Stiles didn't even want to touch that. He liked Derek's protective nature but it also made him think about things that he usually didn't touch with a thirty-foot pole. In fact, those thoughts were ones that were best buried very, very deep. But in this moment, when he was trying so hard to hold it together, he indulged a tiny bit.

"Do you promise?"

"Yes." Derek sounded so serious. As though he was making a vow.

"Okay."

Something about that simple promise made Stiles feel like maybe he could do this. Maybe. He just needed to feel like someone was watching out for him.

Derek squeezed Stiles shoulders slightly and then he stood up.

Stiles panicked. "Don't!"

Derek stopped and looked at down at Stiles. "Don't what?"

"Don't leave me alone," said Stiles. It hurt his pride to say it but he also couldn't bear to be left alone to deal with the nightmares again. "Please don't go."

Derek sat back down. This time he didn't just put an arm over Stiles' shoulders. He wrapped both of his arms around him and pulled him close. "I'll stay."

Stiles was pretty sure this had to do with some sort of werewolf calming technique but he didn't really care either way. For the first time since his mom had died, he felt safe. So he did the only thing he could think of. He leaned his head against Derek's chest, wrapped his fingers in the Alpha's shirt, and closed his eyes again.

When he woke up Derek was gone but the entire night had passed and Stiles hadn't woken from any more nightmares. He didn't really know what any of it meant, if it meant anything. But something in him decided it was going to stay his secret. Stiles wasn't all that keen on sharing Derek. Even if he was pretty sure he'd never see Derek again.

But that night, as Stiles was drifting off to sleep, there was a tap at his window. He freaked out momentarily and came crashing off the side of the bed before realizing it was Derek.

Stiles could practically hear the Alpha's eye roll.

He raised the window. "You're here," he said, not sure if it was a question or statement.

"You need me," was the only answer he got.

It became a routine. Derek would show up late at night, tap on the window and wait for Stiles to let him in. After a while Stiles didn't really need Derek to keep away the nightmares. In fact he was getting a little worried about Derek finding out what types of dreams he'd been having.

Peter had mobilized Derek's young pack into being a cohesive unit and they'd quickly routed the rival pack. Even Jackson was pulling it together.

Derek started coming over more often too. He'd drop in for dinner or show up with coffee. Stiles' dad never said anything about it and after a while Stiles sort of accepted it as normal.

Derek never acted like he had any other reason but Stiles' well being in mind when he was there. Except sometimes, when Stiles would wake up in the middle of the night and have a few brief seconds before Derek noticed, he could see this look in Derek's eyes that said maybe there was more to this.

The pack didn't really say anything about it. It was just sort of acknowledged that Stiles now smelled like Derek and belonged.

Isaac made a comment once that it didn't really seem fair that Stiles always had Derek's scent on him but Derek rarely smelled like Stiles.

Stiles had jokingly responded by hugging Derek and sniffing at his neck, declaring him to be Stilized. He thought it was funny.

Then he was rather happy that Isaac didn't say anything about the tiny moan that escaped from Derek's lips, or the fact that Stiles lingered a bit longer than necessary for the joke.

But for the most part, Stiles chose to live in his little delusion world. A world that said he could curl up against an Alpha's chest and go to sleep every night (except for full moons obviously) and there wasn't anything weird about it.

Because if Stiles is honest, he knows how he really feels. But Stiles isn't sure how to bring up his feelings to Derek. Is feelings even the right word? It doesn't sound right. More like want—no, need. He needs Derek. So much it kind of scares him. Because that means he's gay. And there's nothing wrong with that, it just confuses Stiles more. After all, he's been in love with Lydia Martin for so long, it doesn't seem like he should be able to just switch.

But he knows the way he wants Derek is different.

Because while Stiles can tell you what brand of shampoo Lydia uses and that she only wears her hair curly when she's pissed off or that she secretly loves baseball, he can also go days without thinking about her. Or missing her.

Not Derek. When Derek's gone for a day it feels like a fist starts clenching around his heart. Stiles is still a little embarrassed about the week Derek went to Oregon to meet with another Alpha. He'd barely slept the first two nights so he finally went over to the den when he knew Erica and Isaac and Boyd would be gone.

The plan was just to grab one of Derek's t-shirts so he could sleep in it and keep his smell around him.

The whole smell thing had seemed weird to Stiles at first. Sniffing someone? Gross. But then he started noticing how the foot of his bed smelled like pine trees and dark beer and something else that was distinctly Derek.

So he went to get a shirt so he could keep Derek's smell around. Sure Derek only stayed with him at night but his scent was there throughout the day. Stiles needed to feel like he was still there.

Stiles ended up falling asleep on Derek's mattress, wearing his clothes, arms hugging Derek's pillow. No one was there when he woke up but Erica's stuff was moved around and there were new dishes so he was pretty sure they'd seen him. Stiles wasn't sure what they thought about him being there. He guessed no one really cared or they would have said something by now.

That was the week that Stiles realized how badly he needed Derek.

And after nearly three months of this, two of them lying to himself, here he was, trying to think of a way to tell Derek about his feelings. So Stiles figured he'd talk to his dad first. Maybe he could help him sort out some of his issues

"Dad, we need to talk," said Stiles, sitting down at the dinner table.

John Stilinski sat down opposite his son and reached for the spaghetti bowl. "About?"

"Remember when you said I couldn't be gay that night with Danny and the kanima and everything?"

"I believe what I said was you weren't gay," corrected the Sheriff. "There's a difference."

"There is?" questioned Stiles.

"Of course. One implies something that will never happen. The other is just a matter of timing."

"So you think I'm gay now?"

"Not exactly." John took a bite of garlic bread before continuing. "I mean you still find Lydia attractive so I don't think you can say you're 100% gay."

"So you think I'm bi?" asked Stiles, confused about what his dad was saying.

"I'm saying I think it's not so much about WHAT you are or are not but about whose you are," answered John Stilinski.

The confusion was written all over Stiles face to the point he might as well have been a billboard. "Whose? I'm not anyone's, dad, I mean this was like a hypothetical question, obviously because there's not anyone specific in mind. Plus like no one but Danny is gay around here that I know of and Danny's totally taken and I don't think I'm his type…" his voice trailed away because all the words in the world weren't stopping the look on his dad's face.

"I can't say I'm surprised that you fell for someone as dense as you are about this stuff," muttered John. "Sometimes I think you're worse than Scott when it comes to love."

"Dad!" protested Stiles. Some insults were just too much. "How would you even guess who I might be interested in?"

John shook his head. "Stiles, I may turn a blind eye to a lot of the shit you and Scott pull but I didn't get to be Sheriff without some keen observation skills. Not to mention the fact that knowing about werewolves means I pay extra close attention. You think I haven't noticed that your bed always looked like two people slept in it? Or that you start cooking foods I'm normally not allowed to eat whenever Derek's out of town because your mind is a hundred miles away?"

And there it was. Something in Stiles had thought maybe his dad had the wrong idea or something. Anything. But no, even his dad could see how hung up he was on Derek freaking Hale.

"So you're okay with me being gay?" asked Stiles again. "Or bi or whatever?"

"I would be,"" said his father. "But I told you before, you don't act like a guy who's gay. Or bi. Or whatever other label you want to come up with. And I think you want a label because that's less scary than facing the truth."

"I have to be something!" yelled Stiles in frustration.

"Derek's."

"Okay, I'm not even going to touch the creepiness of my dad thinking I belong to someone but in general, I can't just BELONG to someone." Stiles was getting more nervous and unfortunately it wasn't so much at what his dad was saying as it was at the accurateness of what he was saying. That scared Stiles. Because if Derek didn't want him back, he was basically fucked.

"Do you remember how your mom and I were together?" asked John.

Stiles was taken aback by the switch in conversation but went with it. Almost. "Yeah. It always felt like you fit together more than most parents I knew. Like I could picture Scott's mom or Lydia's dad or either of Jackson's parents but my parents always had to be mentioned together. Even now, all these years later it feels weird to think of just my dad. Like you're missing something. It felt the same with Allison's parents."

"Like puzzle pieces were missing."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Stiles. "But I still don't get…"

"That's what your mom used to tell me. She'd say we were like a puzzle. Not just one piece fitting the other, the way most couples are but the whole puzzle. I was the outline but she filled in all the good parts," explained John. "And when she died it felt like someone took the puzzle apart and tried to put it back together but lost too many pieces. All the background was there but the little details were missing."

Stiles thought that was possibly the best description of his parents that he'd ever heard. But it hurt a little to see his dad getting teary-eyed. He'd never realized quite how empty his dad felt without his mom.

John continued. "It is admittedly strange to think that my son, at barely 18, has found his puzzle pieces, but that's how you act around Derek. As though you've put together a puzzle and the outline is there and the scenery and colors are all lined up but it's not until he shows up that someone fills in the details."

"I do?" asked Stiles, a little breathlessly. Maybe this could be real if someone else could see how he felt. Maybe he could find the courage to at least talk to Derek, even if he ended up being completely rejected.

"You do. More importantly, Derek acts like you're the one that holds his pieces together. He's calmer with you. Kinder. You bring out a side of him that's nearly forgotten how to exist."

John walked around the table and hugged his son. "Talk to Derek, Stiles. Tell him how you feel. Really feel, don't just hint at it. If you don't like his response, I'm retiring."

Stiles hugged tightly to his dad. "Thanks, dad."

"You're welcome. Now do the dishes so I can watch a game and pretend that I didn't just tell my 18 year old son that his soulmate is a tempestuous 25 year old werewolf."


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn't like Stiles was all that clear on how to bring it up. So as he usually did, he talked a lot more and tripped over things several times an hour instead of a day and generally annoyed Derek throughout the process.

"Stiles!" Derek growled at him after he flailed into Isaac as everyone left the latest pack training session. Isaac propped Stiles back up, squeezed his arm reassuringly (he knew why Stiles was being more Stilesy than normal) and hopped in the back of Erica's car.

Derek had decided that along with regular meetings, it was time they all trained on how to use their abilities beyond the attack training Peter had given them. Well, time for all the wolves. Though he still made Stiles go out there and train with Allison. It took her about a week to get over the idea that she was breaking up with Scott. Stiles was pretty sure it was because she missed the pack, and with her family falling apart, she needed them more than ever.

Regardless, Allison still had a little too much fun playing her version of dodgeball during training sessions. Erica and Jackson had tried to protest that dodging wolfsbane filled paintballs was completely unfair.

Derek's response was "if you can dodge a paintball, you can dodge an arrow" and Stiles had fallen into a fit of laughter at the movie reference. Derek smirked too but then glared because Stiles knocked over the bucket of said paintballs.

So Stiles learned how to shoot and how to maneuver out of the way of a wolf's claws and teeth. Sometimes Lydia would join them but she was also studying with Peter. No one was sure about trusting Peter, at least not fully, but he hadn't gone after anyone yet. It almost seemed like he just wanted to get back to the land of the living and wasn't interested in a power struggle.

Stiles was concerned about Lydia, but he knew better than to say anything. While she had jumped into action to help Jackson, and help again against the rival pack, Lydia was still kind of pissed at all of them. Just the memory of the day Lydia let loose on them was terrifying.

* * *

(flashback)

_"What do we do about Lydia?" asked Scott. The group was at their 2__nd__ pack meeting since they'd discovered a new pack of alphas was in town._

_"Exactly what do you mean?" queried Peter, a note of warning in his tone. There was something else there too, something only Stiles and Erica seemed to catch. _

_"What do we tell her?" asked Allison. "I know she was there with Jackson but she hasn't really talked much since. It kind of feels like she thinks it was another hallucination."_

_"And you propose…?" Peter was letting Scott and Allison do all the talking and at this point everyone seemed to feel that a trap was coming, they just weren't sure where it was coming from. _

_"Maybe we should encourage her to think it was still a hallucination? That maybe Jackson was in trouble but she imagined the whole wolf/lizard/spewing liquid ash part of it?" _

_Stiles rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure whether to think Allison was just being more ignorant because she was still trying to adjust her life or if Scott was hitting new levels of stupid. "You can't tell her she imagined it all."_

_"Why not?" asked Allison._

_"Yes, why ever not?" A voice practically purred from the doorway. Lydia stood there in jeans, laced boots, and an emerald shirt that further highlighted her eyes. Eyes that snapped with rage. _

_"Lydia!" Several people in the room gasped her name. _

_Stiles noted that Peter was the only one who didn't seem all that surprised. Apparently the whole observational part of the wolves training still needed work._

_"Really, I'd love to hear why you'd think I should be informed of the supernatural situation now. None of you bothered back when I was bitten by a werewolf." Lydia walked forward and ran a finger along Derek's jaw line. He glared but didn't push her away._

_"In fact, you went after other recruits for your pack. Guess you could only take one of your uncle's leftovers." _

_Scott made a noise as though to complain and Lydia whipped around to him. _

_"What is it, Scott? Don't like the term? Well don't worry. Everyone knows you're not really a leftover. Why at this point I'm surprised Derek hasn't rolled over and begged in submission to ensure your allegiance." She raised a hand and waved it back and forth as Allison started to interrupt. _

_"Is it your turn then, Allison, darling? Going to tell me more about your roleplaying games and the need to research for them? Or perhaps you want to pretend the party that I had never happened." Lydia reached over to run her fingers up Allison's arms. Allison flinched as Lydia's nails drew blood. "You couldn't be bothered to listen to me for weeks, in fact, I distinctly remember your response to me running around naked in the woods to be essentially, buck up and show this school what you're made of."_

_Lydia laughed, cruel and flippant. "Funny how you couldn't be bothered to listen to your mother the night she died either."_

_"Lydia!" snapped Stiles, unable to believe even she could be so heartless. "You can't…"_

_"Don't you dare!" She whirled on him, marching closer in a way that had everyone but Peter cowering away from the enraged redhead. _

_"I can't?!" she screamed, voice dripping in venom. "I can't what? I can't call you out on ignoring me? I can't call you out on hiding the truth?"_

_She swept the room, capturing the others in her gaze._

_"Let's go over what happened because of that. You all seem quite comfortable sitting with Peter. Who of course, was dead only a few weeks ago. And who brought him back to life? Oh that's right. Me. I did. I resurrected an evil, murderous, psychotic Alpha because he was attacking and practically possessing me through dreams and hallucinations."_

_Even Peter shriveled away from her a bit at that one._

_"But none of you could bother to tell me about him, could you?" continued Lydia. Tears were streaming down her face but her voice never wavered. "None of you could tell me that I should stay away from my boyfriend, who was currently killing people on the whim of a teenager. None of you could be bothered to explain that my friends were werewolves."_

_Her voice finally shook, barely, and she nearly whispered the next words. "I had a panic attack, screaming in terror in the middle of class, and still, not one of you told me the truth. You kept lying to me. I was dying. And you all lied."_

_Stiles was rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie as Lydia finished. Isaac had his head buried in his hands, not even attempting to quiet his sobs. That upset Stiles even more somehow because Isaac had nothing to do with this. Scott was staring at Lydia in shock and even Derek had tears in his eyes. Jackson was keening back and forth in his chair, a high pitched noise barely emerging._

_It was as though a veil had lifted and they all saw just how much they'd put Lydia through._

_Lydia's body shook and she said quietly, "no more lies." _

_Then she screamed it. "No more lies!" And she kept screaming it, standing there in the middle of the room, surrounded by the people who claimed to love her. "No more lies!"_

_After what seemed like an interminable amount of time, when everyone was at a loss, Allison stood up. She walked over to Lydia, wrapped her arms around her and held on for dear life. "No more lies," she whispered._

*end flashback*

* * *

Now, as the last pack member drove away, Derek turned to Stiles. "What is it with you lately?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," huffed Stiles.

"You're clumsy and your mouth won't stop going and I swear you've taken more Adderall than is humanly possible," clarified Derek. "Though I thought you were done with the Adderall."

"Whatever," said Stiles. He hesitated. "I just…I just kind of need to talk to you about something."

"So talk, Stiles. Since when have you not been able to talk to me?"

"Well since what I have to say doesn't really involve yelling at you which is what I usually do and so I know how to do that and I know how to be quiet and just enjoy your company but I don't really know how to bring this up," rambled Stiles without a breath. "Plus if I say this and you don't like it or get upset at me or something then I'm kind of worried about what that means and…"

"Stiles." Derek pushed Stiles into a post on the porch. "Stop. You aren't making any sense."

Stiles glared at Derek. "Can't you just like use your stupid wolf senses to know what I'm trying to tell you?"

"It doesn't work like that. I'm not a mind reader." Derek was scowling right back at Stiles.

"You can tell when I'm lying," countered Stiles.

"Because your heart beats faster. When you get nervous it does the same thing." Derek hesitated before the next part. "And we can tell some feelings by certain smells."

Stiles nods, distracted. "Yeah, yeah like that whole being able to smell someone's getting sick before they realize it and…" his voice momentarily trailed away. "Wait. You mean smells like…?"

Derek nodded. These were the type of moments he hated having with Scott. The day he'd had to explain to Scott that what he was smelling on Allison was arousal had been worse than his parents trying to give him a sex talk over a decade ago. Awkward to say the least. And of course it had taken Scott forever to get it. Derek finally had just said 'sex. She smells like a girl who's horny to have sex with you'. Even then he wasn't sure Scott picked up on it.

Now Stiles knew what to do. Trying to tell Derek he was pretty sure he was in love with him had proven far too difficult. But arousal? That he could show pretty easily. He just wanted to make it worth it. If he'd been completely wrong about Derek's feelings, Stiles at least wanted a few quality seconds.

And he definitely wanted to see what it felt like to run his hands along Derek's stomach. He really, really wanted to know what that felt like.

So he motioned for Derek to step a little closer and kept his back pressed against the pillar. "You know how you always push me into walls or posts or door frames?"

Derek grimaced. "I'm trying to stop."

"Actually," said Stiles, still a little bit in disbelief that he was going to do this, "I kind of just wish you had another reason to hold me against a wall."

Before Derek could try to figure out what Stiles was saying, if he was saying what he thought he was, what he wanted him to be saying, Stiles had wrapped his fingers around the edges of his jacket and pulled Derek up against him.

"And I'm kind of tired of only knowing how you smell." Stiles pressed his lips against Derek's, kissing with only a hint of force. "I want to know how you taste," he muttered against the alpha's lips.

Derek didn't even hesitate. His arms came around Stiles' waist and pulled him fully against his own body. "I want to taste like you," he whispered back, in a voice that had Stiles practically melting.

Derek kissed Stiles back, still somewhat gently, but Stiles wasn't having it. He'd gotten his opening and he was damn sure he was making it count. Who knew how long before Derek changed his mind. Stiles slid his hands up around Derek's neck and used his tongue to nudge at Derek's lips.

They parted almost instantly, Derek letting out a small sign of pleasure as he let Stiles in to explore.

It was only seconds before Derek's tongue was pushing against Stiles' mouth in return, the fire in both of them too hot to quench.

Stiles was happier than he'd ever thought possible. He figured he could easily spend a few hours here, kissing Derek and being kissed back.

* * *

**So I'm only adding this note because this matters to the story later. Derek and Stiles are only kissing. That'll be more clear in the next chapter. And it will probably be a while before any really good stuff happens. I mean Stiles is only 17. And Derek has ISSUES. But it will also take a while because I don't really know how to write smut. I'm trying to figure it out so if the kissing was good please tell me! Then I'll know I'm at least on the right track. I'll find a way to write it eventually. Swear!**

**Oh and on the Lydia stuff, I know I went kind of dark but it really pissed me off the way no one would clue her in during S2. I think we all know that Peter's still a threat, especially going into S3 but I'd love to see Lydia get to be a little angry at the others too. And if not, at least I got to give her that rage.**

**Lastly, I have the fanon impression that Isaac latches onto Stiles (and vice versa) and is more naturally affectionate. I really like that aspect, in fact its made me love Isaac even more so I'm kind of going with it as the story progresses. Whew! That's all the notes but please leave reviews!**


	3. Chapter 3

**(So I should clarify really quickly that in my story, everyone is currently a junior and it's the summer before senior year. I didn't skip ahead in the show's timeline, just pretended this hasn't been sophomore year.)**

A week after Stiles and Derek had their impromptu make-out session, the pack was gathered again for a meeting. They'd actually had the pack meeting two nights ago, tonight was supposed to be training but Lydia and Allison said it was important that the pack discuss two important issues tonight.

Derek was trying to be more supportive of his pack as a whole and let them lead discussions. On the one hand, this made sense to him. His parents had led their family's pack in much the same way, allowing everyone an equal say. It was always clear however that his mother, as the Alpha, had the final say.

He knew this particular pack of his was different too. It took Stiles pointing it out to him one night (before they'd moved their relationship ahead) that he was drawn to people who were broken. That too made it easier to understand why Allison and Lydia both fit within his pack even better than Scott. The boy wasn't free from suffering but he hadn't suffered in the way the others had. And of course Derek had never even considered biting Scott when he first returned to Beacon Hills.

He had felt an odd pull towards Stiles from day one though.

Knowing that his pack didn't respond well to growls and threats had him doing his best to find other ways to teach them. Deep down, okay way deep down, he craved the comfort his family had. The sense of camaraderie and natural affection between a pack.

But at the same time, things were different. Derek's parents had also trusted the other pack members to protect the pack. And Derek's teenage hormones had gotten them killed.

So while he wanted one type of pack, he couldn't help staying harsh and cold towards his betas and humans. He had to. If he let them do whatever they wanted, someone else was going to end up dead.

"Is this about school starting?" asked Derek. "Because training and pack meetings aren't stopping."

"We need to tell Danny," replied Allison, interjecting quickly. Derek didn't talk much but when he got started on the need for training and constant vigilance he really could JUST. GO. ON. "He's been asking questions and if we're going to keep using his computer skills, he deserves to know the truth."

"Why? This isn't an extracurricular," questioned Derek. He had no problem with bringing Danny into the pack, in any way that Danny wanted to join but his pack needed to understand there had to be reasons. This wasn't a club with members only jackets as their secret identifier.

"Heh," laughed Stiles.

"What's so funny?" asked Scott.

"I was picturing everyone in Members Only Jackets," answered Stiles, still snickering.

"Bet you'd look good in one," said Derek to Stiles in a low voice, momentarily distracted.

"Bet you'd look good out of one."

Okay now Derek was really distracted. Especially by the way Stiles kept flicking his tongue along his lower lip.

Erica waved her hand. "Hi, just a reminder that we can all still hear you." She wrinkled her nose. "And smell you. Really Derek?"

"Not all of us," Lydia snipped. "Though it's not exactly hard to imagine."

Derek gave half a glare before coming to a realization. "Wait, you all know?"

A chorus of yeses, accompanied by groans from Jackson and Scott immediately followed.

"Dude, your heart literally does a pitter patter when Stiles walks into a room," said Jackson, rolling his eyes.

"That's adorable," squealed Allison as both Derek and Stiles turned varying shades of red.

"It is kinda cute," agreed Isaac quietly from his seat at Stiles' feet.

Stiles leaned forward and ruffled the kid's hair. "Thanks, Isaac."

"Not that this isn't fascinating," said Lydia, "but can we get back to Danny?"

"Yes," said Derek and a hint of the Alpha's command was in his voice. He didn't really mind the teasing, it was just the idea that his feelings might be deeper than he realized that gave him pause. He knew he liked Stiles. A lot. And he definitely wanted Stiles on a physical level. In fact keeping it to just make-out sessions had been difficult but he knew that was what Stiles wanted right now.

But more than that? Derek wasn't so comfortable with that. The last time he loved someone, he got people killed. He knew Stiles wasn't Kate, by any means. But he was still the same guy who couldn't protect the people he loved. He couldn't risk that as an alpha. Derek shook away his confusing thoughts when he noticed Isaac looking at him with a worried expression. The kid was far too observant.

"Fine," said Derek, interrupting Lydia's list of reasons why Danny should be told. "Danny's in. If he wants it. Lydia, I suppose you and Allison will be telling him since you brought it up?"

"No," interjected Jackson firmly. "I'll talk to Danny. He's my best friend."

Everyone but Lydia turned to stare at Jackson in surprise. He had been drastically improving on his personality since he lost the kanima aspect but he never volunteered for anything. And the douchebag attitude was still slow to fully go away.

Lydia however knew that while the outward signs were emerging slowly, Jackson was a very different person now. She also remembered very clearly the day she'd walked towards Jackson's house, just a few days after the kanima part of him had been killed, trying to figure out what to say.

*Flashback*

_Lydia dragged her feet for the first time in her life. She needed to talk to Jackson. That much was clear. And while she'd practically forced Peter to explain exactly what happened to her, it become quickly evident that Jackson had been just as fucked up as she had been. Maybe the two of them could figure out what was going on with their lives now. _

_At the same time, something was giving her pause. She didn't really know who else to talk to but she also didn't really feel like Jackson needed her. It wasn't in his usual asshole way either. It just felt like she couldn't really help him. She just didn't know who could. So she walked a little slower and tried to figure it out._

_Meanwhile Jackson was pacing back and forth on his front porch. He had what he wanted. He was a werewolf, whatever the hell that actually meant. _

_Except he'd also been a kanima. No one had really been telling him what that meant, and now that he knew he could understand why. He'd finally gone to Scott and forced him to tell him what happened. _

_And now Jackson sort of felt like flinging himself off a roof. He knew he was an asshole. He knew he could blame a little of it on his parents being dead and the fact that he never really felt like he belonged anywhere. But he also knew most of it was because he just chose to be an ass and got away with it. _

_But now? Now Jackson was stuck knowing that his issues had turned him into a controllable monster. He'd killed people. Not in self-defense or for justice but because of the sick desire for revenge from a messed up teenager. Matt didn't even have good reasons! The only death Jackson wasn't feeling guilty over was Isaac's dad. And yeah Scott told him that Matt was to blame and it wasn't Jackson's fault but it still felt like it was. If he hadn't gone to Derek with the wrong reasons to become a werewolf, he wouldn't have been so easily turned into a kanima._

_He just didn't really know where that left him. Derek hadn't found him yet so he wasn't really sure if he was supposed to be part of the pack. He wanted to be. More than he thought possible. In fact he was willing to do whatever Derek said if it meant he wouldn't be left alone. The problem being of course that right now, he was very much alone._

_"Jackson?" _

_A voice came from the walk up to his house. Jackson turned to see Danny standing there, looking worried. _

_"Danny? What are you doing here?"_

_"You haven't been in school for a while and then yesterday at the store you said thank you to the sales clerk. I've never heard you do that," explained Danny. "I thought maybe you could use a friend."_

_Jackson stopped pacing and sank to the floor. "Am I really that horrible of a person? That being polite is what makes people think I'm messed up?"_

_"Yes," answered Danny. He wasn't about to sugarcoat things for Jackson. _

_Jackson stared at him in disbelief. _

_"But you know you don't have to be, right?" continued Danny. "You could be the guy who says please and thank you and holds the door open for people."_

_"You really think I could be better?" asked Jackson in a quiet voice. He had folded his arms over his knees and now dropped his head into his arms. "I don't know if I can."_

_"I know you can be better," asserted Danny, sitting next to Jackson on the stairs. "You just need someone who believes it until you do."_

_Danny was the only person in the world that Jackson knew how to be honest with. Or real with. And he was also the only person that he would ever let see him cry. "I've been an awful person, Danny," he choked out. "And a horrible friend."_

_"I know," said Danny. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around Jackson's hand, not moving it, just sitting quietly. Trying in a small way to comfort his best friend. "We'll work on that too."_

_Lydia's lips turned up in a soft smile and she brushed away a tear as she stood at the edge of Jackson's yard. She couldn't hear what was being said and the boys hadn't noticed her. But she could see Jackson's hand curl around Danny's, clinging to the comfort it offered. Something told her he would be okay._

_*End Flashback*_

Stiles seemed to sense that it was better to move on than to dwell on Jackson volunteering. "You said two things?"

"Oh yeah," answered Allison, turning back from where she and Scott were making googly eyes at each other. "Well, um, the thing is…" she paused, trying to figure out how to word this next request.

Lydia jumped in, having no qualms about decorum. "We need to fix the house." Of course, she also knew that Allison was kind of the wrong one to actually bring up this issue, seeing as she was still an Argent.

"Excuse me," said Derek.

"It's a mess, Derek," continued Lydia. "And if we're supposed to keep meeting and training and acting like a pack, we need more than an abandoned train station and skeleton of a house to do it in."

Erica decided to add her two cents. "We could turn this place into a training area as well. The rail cars and equipment do give us something to work off."

"That's not a bad idea," commented Scott. "We can also…"

"No," stated Derek firmly.

"No, we can't train here or no, we can't fix the house?" asked Scott.

"No, we aren't doing anything to the house." Derek wasn't interested in a discussion on the matter either. His home was not going to become a group project.

"Derek," said Stiles, putting a hand on his leg, "maybe it isn't the worst idea. If we do it right."

"I said no!" Derek snarled and shoved Stiles' hand aside, standing up as he did so. "End of discussion." He used the full power of his Alpha to insure they all knew better than to try going behind his back and stormed out of the room.

"Okay then," said Lydia. "He does realize this is still a problem right?"

"I can try talking to him later," allowed Stiles, not wanting to comment too much when he was pretty sure Derek was still listening to them.

Peter sighed. "Let me. I have an idea about where his head's at."

Several heads turned to Peter in surprise.

"Yes, I can be helpful," snapped Peter sarcastically. "We'll talk about it again at next week's meeting. Until then, training session tomorrow in the woods. Don't be late."

Stiles had barely walked into the house when his dad met him in the hallway.

"Stiles, we need to talk."

"Okay, look Dad I know it's late and I know I said I'd do better and I swear I will," began Stiles as an explanation. "It's just that school is almost starting and Derek wants to be sure everyone is prepared for whatever new disaster is probably lurking around the corner and…"

"Stiles."

Stiles stopped. "Sorry."

"I want to talk about you and Derek," said John.

"Uh, what about me and Derek?" _Please don't let this be a sex talk, please don't let this be a sex talk,_ thought Stiles fervently.

"This isn't a sex talk," said his dad quickly. "And no, you didn't say that out loud. I think I know my own son's facial expressions pretty well at this point."

"Thank god," said Stiles in relief.

His dad hesitated before continuing, clearly uncomfortable. "It's just that I know you're 18 and I know I said you two act like you're made for each other in some inexplicable bond but I also know that some things, like sex, are supposed to be important and I just…"

"Dad I know," interrupted Stiles.

"Do you?"

"Yeah. I mean at the risk of oversharing with my father, I want it. A lot. But I'm also the first person that Derek's been with, in any form, after Kate. And while I very much want to be the person who allows him to move on, I don't want to be the guy he uses to forget." Stiles was actually very clear with himself on that particular topic. He just hadn't figured out how to explain it to Derek.

"So you're going to wait?" asked his dad.

Stiles sighed. "I want to know that he loves me first. And I know that may be cheesy and straight out of some crazy ass teen tv show rule book but that's how I feel."

His dad just hugged him in response and Stiles chose to sink into the hug, appreciating that no matter what, his dad was always there for him.

"I love you, Stiles," said John quietly.

"Love you too, Dad."


	4. Chapter 4

"Derek," said Peter, searching out the younger wolf. "Can we talk?"

"About?" asked Derek, though his usual bite wasn't in the words.

"Fixing the house."

"I thought I made my feelings about that clear," growled Derek.

"And I think you forgot that this place was my home for a lot longer than it was yours," explained Peter.

"Oh." Derek had the grace to look slightly sheepish. "I just don't see why they have to make such a big deal."

"Because you're turning them into a pack and becoming a pack means becoming a family, Derek." Peter paused at the look on his nephew's face. Clearly the idea of a family, especially one he had to protect was too early for Derek. He obviously had the instincts for it, he just hadn't accepted that's what he was doing. "Or at least a cohesive group," he amended. "But they're kids. They need a place to hang out, a den of sorts. And if you're going to insist on all the training and pack bonding, you need to provide that place."

"I'm not sure I'm ready," said Derek, knowing his uncle was right.

"Honestly, neither am I," offered Peter in a rare display of emotion. "But we can't keep trying to live among the ashes of ghosts."

* * *

Today's training was particularly grueling. Derek had put Stiles, Allison, and Lydia up in sniper posts in the woods and informed the wolves that they had 2 hours to get a box from the sub station and back to the house.

Derek did not appreciate Stiles pointing out that they were basically playing a very intense game of Capture the Flag.

The first time they'd ran the exercise (this morning), Boyd had insisted that it wasn't fair. The wolves could hear the "hunters" heartbeats, and it wasn't like they couldn't climb trees.

Derek just told him to shut up and complete the exercise and they'd see where improvements needed to be made.

It took 12 minutes. 12 minutes and 17 seconds to be precise for the trio of snipers to take out the entire rest of the werewolf pack.

Stiles would have fallen out of the tree from laughter if he hadn't been afraid that even Scott would beat the crap out of him for it.

Boyd and Jackson both just growled that they wanted to go again before they had to hear Derek's lecture about what they were doing wrong.

So they tried again. The wolves plotted, and of course Allison, Lydia, and Stiles couldn't hear them, and had to wait until the wolves entered the woods.

The second time they had all the werewolves taken out in 11 minutes. The third time around it was 9 minutes, 47 seconds and even Danny was getting pissed.

Erica was the first to realize the various strengths each human had. Allison was brutal. She didn't stop slinging paintballs until she hit her target and it was hard to dodge that kind of volley. And even if the paintballs didn't hurt that much, everyone remembered the day Derek had ripped Boyd a new one for acting like he could just run through them. Derek informed all of them that they could take training seriously or they'd start training with wolfsbane arrows.

Lydia had an uncanny ability to predict movements and decisions. Or it might have had something to do with her ability to solve complex math & physics problems in a few seconds. She knew where a wolf was going to be almost before they were.

Finally, they realized that Stiles had lethal accuracy. He waited for his target to get close but he never missed.

Erica made it past them by shadowing Isaac, following his exact movements and staying a few yards behind. That got her past Lydia. And because Allison was relying far too much on Lydia's information, Erica was able to slip past her too. That left Stiles and while Erica wasn't exactly brave about it, hiding behind trees certainly worked. So did using Scott as a shield which Derek ruled as fair play.

Of course, Erica hadn't made it back because the rest of the pack had been taken out. But she did get to sit out the next round.

Derek insisted they keep running it until all of the wolves could get past the snipers. No matter how much the boys begged for a return to the one on one training from earlier in the summer, nothing happened. Derek would just pull his Alpha growl and send them out again.

While the one on one training had been the primary focus, for the last three weeks the pack had been doing group training. Derek did retrieval missions, sneak assaults, and full-scale battle scenarios. The one thing they hadn't done is face off against each other one on one.

That had stopped abruptly three weeks ago and Stiles knew that Derek still hadn't figured out how to incorporate it back into the training cycle. He had good reason to be concerned.

* * *

*Flashback*

_Stiles was mostly concentrated on the way Derek's back muscles rippled when he moved. Sure he was supposed to be looking for weaknesses in everyone, as were Allison and Lydia but Stiles didn't really think it was his fault he was so easily distracted. _

_Besides, every once in a while Derek would roll his shoulders, making Stiles twitch a little in inappropriate places. Derek would snicker from the clearing and give Stiles a slow grin. The kind that made him twitch a lot. _

_So yeah. Definitely not his fault. _

_So he really couldn't be blamed for taking a second to react to what happened next._

_Derek had told the pack, who were paired up as Scott/Erica, Danny/Boyd, and Jackson/Isaac, to focus on attacking or defending with controlled movements. It was about economy and not using up all their strength on one enemy. _

_Isaac had found what he thought was an opening to Jackson's throat and lunged forward, fangs bared._

_Jackson reacted instinctively, in a move that Derek would later assure him had been smart in any other situation, and backhanded Isaac across the face so hard it sent the wolf flying into a nearby tree._

_The sound of Isaac hitting the tree was what caused everyone to stop momentarily and turn towards the pair. _

_A fallen werewolf wasn't odd._

_But Jackson was staring in horror at Isaac, who was cowering against the tree, screaming "I'll be better, I'll be better, please! I promise I'll be better."_

_It took all of two seconds for Stiles to get to Isaac. _

_And then Jackson started sort of shaking too. "I didn't mean to. What did I do? What did I do?!"_

_Thank god Derek was the alpha because Stiles wasn't sure he would have been able to handle the situation. "Danny," called Derek. "Take care of Jackson." _

_Danny cautiously led Jackson away from the scene, muttering about how it wasn't his fault and he didn't do anything._

_Derek quickly instructed Peter to give the others their critiques and to send them home. As he spoke, he was crossing the clearing to Isaac and kneeling down beside him._

_"Sssh," Derek crooned, pulling Isaac close to him and softly petting the boy's curls. "He can't hurt you. It was just Jackson. You're okay, Isaac, you're okay."_

_Stiles had reached out and held Isaac's hands tightly, rubbing circles into the flesh in an attempt to release some of the tension. _

_The three of them had sat there for several hours, Stiles uncharacteristically staying silent, Derek whispering words of comfort and encouragement, and Isaac trying desperately to break free from the prison his memories held him in._

*End Flashback*

* * *

By the time the pack had finished training, they were all lying in heaps around the sub station.

"Kill me now," groaned Jackson.

"Too much effort," retorted Boyd. "Ask me again tomorrow."

"Bitch," snapped Jackson.

"No, that'd be me," joked Erica.

"You can all shut up," interjected Allison. "At least your werewolf healing fixes the problem. I'm going to be sore for a week."

"How is that any different from a night with Scott?" laughed Jackson.

Allison considered shooting him with her crossbow but settled for throwing a nearby wrench at his head.

Derek let them have their fun for a while. But then he remembered that Stiles had agreed to stay with him that night and it had been a long time since he'd been able to have Stiles all to himself for more than a few stolen minutes. And damn if Derek wasn't a possessive son of a bitch. He didn't like sharing.

"That's enough," he growled at them.

"I suppose that means same time Monday?" asked Scott. They usually got at least two days off but had begged off the weekend to get ready for school.

"No," answered Derek.

"Seriously?" asked Jackson, not even pretending to hide his disbelief.

Stiles just grinned because he knew what was coming next.

"Don't think you have a free day," snapped Derek.

"Of course not. Because that would make sense."

"I'm cutting down the amount of training you will all be doing this semester. And before you start cheering, I'm only doing that so you have time to fix my house. Because obviously I do not have the money to pay a bunch of contractors."

"You're fixing up the house?" asked Lydia.

"Your glee is not subtle, Lydia," said Derek.

The others laughed and echoed their promises to be sure and help with whatever Derek needed. After a few more minutes, during which Lydia began explaining exactly how everything would need to be designed, the pack began to head to their various homes.

Stiles didn't leave with the rest of them. He meant what he told his dad, Derek didn't get his ass without the magic words (okay so he didn't say it that way. Not so much because of potential embarrassment but because his dad would have started making completely inappropriate jokes, especially around Derek and then he really would have died of shame. Sometimes his dad could be completely evil). But Stiles really missed having Derek sleep next to him at night. The wolf was comforting when the nightmares started trying to creep back in on Stiles.

An hour later, after all the bloody shirts from training had been thrown into a bag to be washed, Stiles was lounging on Derek's bed, counting bolts in the subway car and wondering how the hell Derek had managed to rig up a shower in an underground station.

Derek walked in wearing a pair of dark gray sweatpants and shaking the water out of his hair.

Stiles refrained from laughing at the way he literally looked like a dog and focused instead on the way Derek's pants sat deliciously low on his hips.

Derek stopped and stared at Stiles for a long minute with an odd look on his face.

"What'd I do?" asked Stiles.

"I just…" Derek shook his head as though to clear it. "Sometimes I can't believe someone like you would be willing to be with a guy like me."

"Someone like me?"

"Perfect."

Stiles would have laughed, he really would have because him perfect? Hardly. In fact his complete lack of dating experience up until Derek could make that quite clear. And if that wasn't enough, he was pretty sure Jackson was willing to testify to his imperfections. Loudly.

But there was something else in Derek's expression that took precedent. There was a tender look and something that was quite possibly fear, like Derek really didn't think he was good enough for Stiles.

And that kind of amazed Stiles. The idea that Derek (Derek!) of all people was insecure around Stiles, even more the idea that Derek needed him just as badly as he needed Derek…that sort of made Stiles' heart start doing the kinds of things reserved for an Olympic gymnastic routine.

But because he was still Stiles, and not quite used to these moments, he retreated into safe territory. "You know the house is going to reek of paint fumes for weeks right?"

Bless Derek's heart. The Alpha didn't even blink, he was so used to Stiles. "I expect my pack to have the paint done in three days."

"Lydia's going to change her mind at least four times on every room in that place," laughed Stiles. He knew the way Lydia could get when she started in on a project. Didn't matter what it was.

"It's not Lydia's house," snarled Derek, though he didn't put any real force behind the snarl. He climbed into the bed and pulled Stiles closer to him, his hand absentmindedly tracing circles across Stiles' stomach.

"It's like you don't know Lydia at all," retorted Stiles. He was trying really hard not to groan at the touch of Derek's hand. Stiles twisted his head slightly and kissed Derek's jaw line. "Actually, she'll probably make me fix it every time," he added in mock horror. "I'll smell like paint for days."

Derek leaned over and kissed Stiles soundly, his tongue flicking against Stiles' lips. Then he started kissing down Stiles' neck. "I can fix that problem," he said softly, before pressing his lips back to Stiles' mouth.

Derek then started moving his lips and tongue along the other side of Stiles' throat, nipping and nuzzling the way he did when he was trying to get his scent all over Stiles.

When he reached the hollow just below Stiles' ear, Stiles let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. Derek just growled, with a stupidly hot feral undertone in the growl, and licked his way up Stiles' neck.

Stiles knew he'd never be able to explain to anyone who wasn't or wasn't dating a werewolf the sensation of being scented. It sounded insane. Who wants a boyfriend who likes to lick your neck and nuzzle at you?

But then he would just tell them they should try having it done by a werewolf.

Because there was seriously something absurdly hot about Derek declaring him as his. Stiles' inner Disney princess (Obviously he was Belle because he was pretty sure that got him the perfect library) sort of loved the whole possessive part of it.

And then there was that animalistic part of him that he was very sure was not actually supposed to be let out that wanted to growl against Derek's tongue and mark him right back.

Clearly dating a werewolf changed your perspective on foreplay.

* * *

**So I think the flashbacks work to keep the story moving at a decent pace but still give some insight into how everyone is growing. But y'all tell me if it's really working or not.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Just a quick note, I mention in here a lot about Peter seemingly doing better. I want to be clear that Peter is better. I don't know where the show will go (probably not this way) but Peter isn't planning a secret coup or planning on killing anyone. He's genuinely changed. So all the second guessing is just the pack being smart, not me trying to drop hints. And I wouldn't say this except y'all are probably already going to wonder what I'm doing with Peter and I don't need to add on suspicion.**

The house was finished by the end of November and as a celebration, Derek had the pack over for a full weekend. He insisted there would be extensive training throughout the weekend, as well as a full study of werewolf politics, but the others didn't listen too much.

They were thrilled that the house was finally done, especially Isaac as it meant he finally had a home. Sleeping at Stiles' or the sub station or on Erica's couch worked but it wasn't permanent.

More importantly however was that this weekend marked the day Danny would be turned. They were trying to work with Chris Argent, or at least to keep him from coming after them and part of that included keeping him informed on any potential werewolves. When Scott and Allison had first told Chris about Danny wanting to be turned, he'd been furious. Allison eventually talked him down but Chris had finagled an agreement from Derek that anyone asking for the bite had to wait a minimum of eight weeks, during which they would receive counseling from the Alpha and himself on the risks to a werewolf. If the bite was still desired after that, Argent agreed to stay out of it.

Danny hadn't argued with the concept. He seemed to get, just as Stiles and Lydia did, that this particular agreement required a lot of give from Argent and they were already pushing his limits.

Jackson argued though. A lot. Until finally Derek gave an Alpha command that there would be absolutely no more discussion on the matter. Jackson shut up after that.

Despite the work on the house, the bigger focus for everyone through the fall had been school and college applications. Derek insisted that everyone should apply to the schools they wanted to attend, saying they'd work out pack details when the time came.

Everyone applied to various schools, after learning quickly that Derek checked to be sure they weren't all applying to the very small liberal arts college an hour away.

So Lydia applied to Calpoly, and MIT, and recruiters from a number of Ivy League schools contacted her.

Scott, Jackson, Isaac, and Boyd applied to state schools, especially those with decent lacrosse programs.

If anyone noticed that Danny and Jackson applied to the exact same schools and degree programs, no one commented.

Erica applied to (med school), pre-med and was insanely proud of her early acceptance.

Allison primarily focused on the same schools Scott applied to, though she did insist on doing extensive research into training facilities and library resources at each school.

Stiles of course applied to Berkeley. His mom had gone to Berkeley and he'd always planned on going there too. There was still a part of him that wanted to go but mostly it had taken a backseat to his sense of fulfillment from the pack. So he applied and told Derek how hopeful he was about getting in.

And no one told Derek that it didn't really matter what acceptance letters they answered or what early admissions promises were made. No one was leaving Beacon Hills. No one really wanted to.

Stiles couldn't quite pinpoint the moment they'd all decided to stay, but there was just a sense of agreement among the pack. They belonged together now and the focus had to be there. It was what they wanted.

What Stiles did remember was the moment the rest of the pack had decided he had to tell Derek next spring that none of his pack was leaving for college. Traitors, all of them.

Thankfully, that whirlwind was past and life seemed to be settling down. So they were gathering at the house, where the night would start with Derek turning Danny.

* * *

"Any first words as a werewolf?" asked Scott once Danny could focus again.

Danny took a deep breath and looked at Derek. "Do I have to call you Miguel now?"

Stiles burst into laughter, nearly falling off the couch and even Derek snickered.

The rest of the pack stared at each other, thoroughly bewildered.

In the middle of Danny's laughter, he had a thought. "Oh shit."

Derek raised an eyebrow.

"Smell," said Danny in horror. "Does that mean you could…?"

Derek's lips twitched.

"Oh. My. God."

Stiles rolled with laughter.

"I wouldn't be so excited," said Derek, turning to Stiles. "Danny was interested. You're the one who was so turned on I thought you were going to climb me like a tree."

Stiles turned beet red.

Scott groaned. "These are things I did not need to know about my best friend."

Boyd shared his grimace. "These are things I didn't need to know about our Alpha."

Derek just smirked at them.

Stiles tried crawling into the couch to hide his embarrassment but stopped when Derek ran his fingers up his side and whispered in his ear, "You weren't the only one turned on."

"You never did anything about it!" squeaked Stiles.

"Did you not see me change shirts at least three more times for you?" Derek leaned over and kissed Stiles' neck, causing the boy to let out an involuntary groan.

"Super hearing! Super hearing!" yelled Jackson, looking as horrified as Scott & Boyd.

The girls were grinning and Isaac looked like he just tuned it out at this point.

Stiles just leaned a little further into Derek and smiled at his friends. "Get used to it boys. We're here all weekend."

* * *

Saturday's training was intense. Derek had them running drills in the morning and working through battle scenarios until the early evening.

It was clear that the months of training had paid off. Everyone was fairly evenly matched and even if some were stronger (Jackson) or in better control (Scott), others made up for it by being lethal (Lydia) or persistent (Boyd). Even the human members of the pack had improved, though the wolves bested them in the majority of the scenarios.

Derek had stated that they would only be doing physical training for a few hours the next day so he ran them harder this time around.

Whenever the human pack members needed a break, he set the wolves up to spar against each other.

Finally, the day ended when Derek declared Erica's team, which consisted of her, Jackson, Stiles, Isaac, and Danny, to be the winner of the final battle.

When everyone returned to the clearing outside the house, breathing heavy from the run through the woods, Derek called the training over for the day.

"Dinner in an hour," said Derek. "Everyone has to help Stiles' too." He gave Lydia a look as she usually tried to get out of what she disdainfully termed as unnecessary menial labor.

She shrugged to indicate her agreement. Derek knew Lydia would still probably just stand around telling the others what to do.

"I'll grill the steaks!" yelled Scott, claiming his duty for the night.

"I don't think so," said Stiles, elbowing his best friend. "You'll end up cooking them too long."

"Um, werewolf nose," said Scott. "I can smell when they're rare."

Stiles laughed. "And what happened last time we grilled?"

Scott's head drooped. "I burnt the burgers," he admitted. "But it was like one time."

"Yeah. So I'll take care of the meat and you can help everyone else get things ready and pulling stuff out of the fridge." Stiles nudged his friend. "You know I'm the only one trustworthy with the steaks."

Scott glared at him. "Just one problem, Stiles."

"What's that?"

"If I get there first, I can be in charge," grinned Scott. "And you know I'm faster than you." He took off running for the house.

Stiles waited ten seconds to give Scott a head start before yelling. "Jackson! Boyd! Scott thinks he's grilling the steaks instead of me!"

Stiles felt, more than heard the rush of both wolves rushing past him. A minute later, Scott went flying over his head.

"Grill's all yours Stiles!" called Jackson. "And I want mine extra rare."

"You're a werewolf, Jackson," snarked Stiles, rolling his eyes. "You all want extra rare steaks."

* * *

After dinner had finished and the dishes were cleaned up, Peter and Derek went out to the porch to discuss the plan for Sunday. It was a day to focus on studying, with some physical training, contrary to the heavier physical training everyone went through today. Lydia and Allison both opted to join them, having research knowledge that would help the lesson planning.

"I must say, I'm rather surprised Stiles isn't out here," commented Peter.

"He said it was too much effort," answered Allison. "Something about if he had to cook for everyone, we could do the research side of things this time around."

"That doesn't sound like Stiles." Derek frowned, wondering if he should be concerned.

Lydia laughed. "Allison sweetie, I think Scott's rubbing off on you."

Allison made a face at her best friend.

"Stiles and I talked about this at school yesterday. It's become completely obvious that Danny & Jackson have developed feelings for each other," said Lydia. "Or whatever passes for feelings with Jackson," she clarified, wrinkling her nose in disdain. "Regardless, Stiles is trying to get Danny to admit it."

"You're okay with that?" asked Derek.

"Naturally I would be upset if Jackson was interested in another girl, since clearly he can't do better than me," answered Lydia. "But in this case it's quite alright." She waved her hand in mock dismissal of the topic.

"Lydia." Derek might stay out of most of his pack's squabbles and banter but it didn't mean he wasn't aware of what was going on. He knew perfectly well how much Lydia and Jackson cared about each other, even if both were equally horrible about admitting it.

Lydia smiled, a rare, soft smile that lit up her eyes. "I promise, Derek. Jackson deserves a chance to be happy. We all do. And the two of us…we don't belong together anymore. Maybe we never really did."

"That's really sweet of you," said Allison, squeezing Lydia's hand.

"Yes, I'm a delightful and compassionate person," said Lydia. "On that note, can we get back to discussing how many different ways I'm allowed to maim your boyfriend this weekend?"

"You know you'll find someone for yourself?" Derek wasn't quite willing to let it go.

Lydia nodded. "I do. In fact there was a boy once. I only vaguely remember and I haven't been able to get my mind to remember a face yet but I would like to find him again."

"How did you meet him?" asked Allison.

"I have no idea. But I know he gave me flowers and I was too self-centered to think it mattered." Lydia sighed. "I may never figure it out but I do know that Jackson isn't the right guy for me."

Derek shifted in his seat, slightly uncomfortable. It was a lot of emotional sharing for him.

Lydia took pity on him. "Right, but enough about my ramblings. We all know I don't remember a lot of things from last year. Mostly for the good, but perhaps a few decent memories got lost too. Whatever. Let's focus on Sunday's lessons."

* * *

Isaac threw his legs up across Erica's lap and stretched out on the couch.

"Of course you can sit on me," said Erica, rolling her eyes at her best friend.

"Thanks." Isaac stuck his hands under the back of his head and closed his eyes, completely relaxed.

"So did y'all know that Isaac is going to join the school musical?"

Isaac's eyes snapped open. "I never said that!"

Erica smirked. "Oh didn't you? My bad."

Isaac threw a pillow at her, which she of course deftly caught. "I don't even know what the show is. And you know I wouldn't do it. Not with this crowd."

"It's Rocky Horror. But you're probably right. You shouldn't bother," Erica laughed. "You don't have the legs."

"I have fantastic legs," huffed Isaac. "They would look even better in fishnet tights."

"Is there a reason Isaac is talking about dressing in drag?" snarled Jackson from the other side of the room.

"The image too distracting for you?" asked Erica, raising her eyebrows at Jackson in mock interest.

He rolled his eyes at her and turned back to Boyd and Scott.

Erica turned back to look at Isaac, a more pensive expression on her face.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You're doing good, right?" she asked. "I know we joke but life is good. The freakouts stopped?"

Isaac propped himself up on one arm and studied her. "Yeah I'm better. You still dream about that alpha pack?"

She nodded. "Sometimes."

Isaac pulled her arm until she was lying next to him on the couch, her head resting on his shoulder. "You know you can come find me any time you can't sleep. I won't mind."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Besides it would do wonders to my street cred to be seen waking up next to a hot blonde," finished Isaac with a grin.

Erica elbowed him in the ribs, forcing a yelp out of Isaac. But when he didn't push her away, she snuggled up a little closer and relaxed. She really did like having people who had her back.

Stiles had been ignoring the banter of the other two, and purposefully tuning out the strategy session of Boyd, Scott, & Jackson, (who apparently hadn't listened when Derek said tomorrow was training in rules & werewolf politics) but he had noticed Danny's eyes wander from the book he was studying.

"How's the reading going, Danny boy?" he asked, slinging an arm around Danny's shoulders.

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to call me that anymore," said Danny, without any real bite to the words.

Stiles grinned. "I remember you mentioning it. Don't remember agreeing."

"The reading is fine, Stiles. Learning all about territory crossings and required travel agreements. Can't you bother someone else before I beat you over the head with the book?" Danny's eyes flickered towards Jackson and then quickly moved back to the book.

"First off," said Stiles cheerfully, pulling the book out of Danny's hands, "you've been staring at the same page for the last 12 minutes."

"You were counting?"

"Of course. Second, you know if you hit me outside of training that Derek will be super pissed at you. I bruise like a peach," he added in a voice that was far too proud of the fact.

"Stiles?"

"Yes, Danny boy?"

"If I hit you, I'll just tell Derek he can kiss it better and you know what happens then?"

"I can't even imagine," said Stiles with a Cheshire cat grin.

"He'll probably tell me to hit you again."

"He might," agreed Stiles, not seeming the least bit bothered by the idea. Then he leaned in close to Danny's ear, "But you know I'd hit you back. And I wonder how good Jackson is at kissing the pain away."

Danny muttered several choice names for Stiles under his breath and pushed the boy away. Stiles didn't really care though. Because when he said that, Danny may not have reacted, but Jackson absolutely did. And Stiles had every intention of following up on that little piece of information later on.

* * *

Once the plans for Sunday were finished, Allison went inside to find Scott. Derek was a little surprised she'd made it this long without him if he was being honest.

He indicated that he didn't need Peter or Lydia's assistance anymore and that he was going to stay out on the porch for a little while longer.

Lydia stood up to go inside when Peter stopped her.

"Lydia?"

She turned, raising an eyebrow in question. Derek was impressed. Lydia might just be even more expressive with a single eyebrow than he was.

"I was doing some research on your immunity to a werewolf bite and kanima venom. I believe I found some things that would be of interest to you," explained Peter. "Can we take a walk?"

"You can't explain here?" asked Derek with a frown. Peter was doing much better and did seem to have turned a corner but this was also Lydia. He wasn't letting Peter just walk off with her. Not after everything.

"It just seemed like the sort of information she'd want to process out of earshot of the others," answered Peter.

Derek could sense that his uncle was making a special effort to be deferential, something he appreciated. Still.

Lydia played her hand on Derek's arm and squeezed gently. "I'll be fine, Derek. But thank you." She followed Peter away from the house and Derek signaled them when he could no longer hear the conversation.

"What is it, Peter?" asked Lydia.

"First, I feel like I should apologize again. It's obvious you still don't trust me, which I understand but I truly am sor…"

"Peter," interrupted Lydia. "I believe you are sorry. I don't fully trust you but I do believe that. And I believe that you care about this pack, even if you are a more peripheral member due to the past. Please just stop apologizing. If I'm upset, believe me, I will let you know."

"Of that I have no doubt."

Lydia gave him a look she usually reserved for Stiles.

Peter wisely chose to get to the point. "We believed your blood to be immune, that's why your body rejected both the bite and the venom."

"Correct."

"It's extremely rare, but I was able to find two other examples over the last thousand years that had the same situation. Well not the kanima of course."

"Of course," Lydia was actually interested at this point. She'd been assuming it was just going to be telling her she was immune to most bites. "You said 'believed'. Does that mean I'm not immune?"

Peter nodded slightly. "From my research and talking to contacts, it appears that it's not so much an immunity as it is an incredibly fast healing ability."

"Like a werewolf's?"

"Yes. Except about 40 times faster than even an Alpha's healing power. That's why bites and venom don't work. Your blood is killing the toxins and healing you as a human before anything supernatural can take hold."

"Interesting," said Lydia. Her mind was working at lightning speed. "Theoretically, that would say that I can't be killed. My body would heal too fast."

"I didn't say that!" Peter shook his head quickly. "There's no way to know for certain."

Lydia smiled. "Obviously. But it does pose an interesting question. And if I couldn't be killed, I wouldn't have to become a werewolf."

"You don't want the bite?" asked Peter. "Ever?"

"I'd rather not," answered Lydia honestly. "I love these people and I do feel like part of the pack. I have no intention of leaving them. But I have no desire to be a werewolf. For starters, I simply can't imagine trying to find a prom dress that would flatter sideburns."

Peter laughed in spite of himself and didn't notice that Lydia had effortlessly distracted him from her earlier theorizing. She continued cracking jokes about the fashion indignities caused by a werewolf transformation the entire way back to the house.

* * *

Derek watched Lydia & Peter walk away and he listened to the banter and laughter coming from inside the house. A smile slowly crept across his lips.

Life was good. This was good.

He had a pack again. It was still a pack of misfits and broken teenagers but they were helping each other heal.

He knew he was lucky. He hadn't been sure if he'd ever be able to find this again or if he would just spend his life chasing revenge.

Then Stiles came into his life. Derek knew Stiles was the one who brought everyone together. They'd become a pack as a group but it was the way Stiles put everyone else ahead of himself that started it all.

Derek could still remember the first day he saw Stiles. He saw the boys in the woods and as he stood there he wondered what the Alpha had been thinking turning Scott instead of Stiles. Both teens had been scared in the woods but Stiles' fear had been laced with determination.

From there Derek had put up with Stiles while he tried to bring Scott around. He had certainly noticed the way Stiles was comfortable around him, giving him crap and hitting him. Sure he could still make Stiles jump but it was more fun than malicious.

What he hadn't noticed was the way Stiles' crept up on him. Derek found himself looking forward to seeing the boy, wanting to hear him talk.

He knew the moment things had started to change for Stiles. After getting shot, Derek could sense the fear in Stiles. But despite Stiles insisting he'd happily kill him, Derek could tell his real fear was that Derek might actually die.

Then there'd been that day in Stiles' room. Derek wouldn't admit it then, but he'd been amazed that Stiles would lie for him, protect him. And when Stiles came back into the room and was panting and telling Derek off, well it took everything Derek had not to crush his lips against Stiles' mouth.

But of course Stiles hadn't been exhibiting any of the same feelings and Derek wasn't crazy. He wasn't a slave to physical attraction. It was a few hours later, when Danny was over and Stiles was being a brat making him change clothes that Derek got the truth. He knew Danny was gay and could smell the attraction when he pulled his shirt off. Didn't really bother him. Derek worked hard for his physique, he'd take the appreciation.

Derek had been a little surprised when Danny's attraction started smelling more like full on arousal. Until he realized that Stiles was the one who was really turned on. He kept up his growly act and his back to the boys, but from then on it had been in more of an attempt to hide his own excitement.

After that Derek tried to find his excuses to be near Stiles. He'd kind of regretted that his only real excuse was shoving Stiles into the nearest wall. But the way Stiles felt against him always made it worth it.

Still, Derek had kept his own feelings secret. He was too old, too damaged, too a lot of things to be a decent match for Stiles. He'd wanted to hurt everyone the night he heard Stiles screaming in his sleep. Derek had been outside for several hours, trying to work up the courage to talk to Stiles. His only thought had been the pretense of checking on Stiles. There was a small hope that if he started talking to Stiles on his own, maybe they'd at least be friends.

After two hours of feeling like he was straying dangerously into Edward Cullen territory, Derek had turned to leave. He'd sensed Stiles was sleeping and figured he'd come back tomorrow. Then Derek heard Stiles start screaming and it was like a switch flipped in his mind. He had to stop it. He had to take care of Stiles.

It wasn't until the next day that his freak out stemmed in many ways from his wolf catching up to his human side. His human feelings, more than a crush but not truly sorted out, had been there a while. But when he smelt Stiles' terror, the wolf had asserted its claim to take care of Stiles. To protect him. It was one of the clear signs of declaring a mate.

When Stiles made him promise to protect him, Derek hadn't been making that promise for the night. He was making it for as long as he possibly could. Those next few months were torture though. He'd made a point to leave every so often under pretense of wolf business, unable to control himself around Stiles' without a break. Knowing Stiles was attracted to him almost made it worse. Because he'd sworn that he wouldn't pressure Stiles. He didn't even know if Stiles was fully aware of his own feelings, let alone ready to deal with Derek's.

Derek remembered the day he came home from Portland to find his bed covered in Stiles' scent. Erica had been standing in against the wall, smirking.

"Someone was wearing your shirt, curled up in your bed all night," she'd laughed.

"What?"

Erica grinned. "For not being a werewolf, Stiles is pretty interested in making sure your scent lingers even if you're not sleeping next to him."

Derek couldn't help but smile. But he still wouldn't do anything. It had to be Stiles' first move. That and he was fairly certain that John Stilinski could still find a way to murder him if he wanted. In those last couple weeks before he'd finally gotten to kiss Stiles, John had found the flimsiest of excuses to pull him over, leaving him with vague yet threatening comments about behaving himself. Derek hadn't minded all that much.

And then they'd had a pack meeting and Stiles stayed behind to talk to Derek. He could see the goosebumps on Stiles' arms, even for the middle of June, the nights were still cool. Derek had refrained from rubbing his hands along Stiles to warm him up.

When Stiles started talking and stammering, it had confused Derek. Stiles rarely stammered anymore. Derek had tried to figure out what Stiles was saying and why he kept talking about smells and changes and just when he thought he'd lost track completely, Stiles was grabbing his jacket and pulling him against him and then Derek was pretty sure he knew what heaven was like.

Derek sighed a little now in contentment. Yes, life was very good.

Stiles chose that moment to walk outside. He pulled a chair up next to Derek's, sitting down before saying "You look happy."

"Mmm," agreed Derek.

"Any particular reason?"

"You," answered Derek, leaning over to kiss Stiles.

Stiles grinned. "That was a pretty big smile for just me."

"I have a pack. We have a pack. A home. It's…" Derek's voice trailed away, trying to think of the word to describe his thoughts.

"Good," said Stiles. It was a simple word, often overused, but Derek agreed. It was the best way to describe how he felt.

"Yes."

Derek said nothing, wondering if Stiles had more to say. When the younger man didn't say anything, Derek decided to share a memory. "My parents used to spend a lot of days on the porch when I was growing up."

Stiles only response was to reach out and lace his fingers through Derek's.

"I never really understood why they'd sit here instead of talking with the relatives inside or telling us kids to quit being loud," continued Derek. "But sitting here now, listening to everyone banter, and seeing Lydia & Peter & Jackson heal. Watching Allison figure her purpose out. Seeing Isaac trust people again. I get why they sat here."

Derek didn't really know how to finish. He'd just wanted Stiles to know that. He shouldn't have worried. Stiles just squeezed his hand a little tighter and leaned his head on Derek's shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

"Peter, can I ask you kind of a personal question?" Stiles was making breakfast for everyone before what Derek had promised would be an even more intense day in their weekend of training/official bonding ceremony. His meal was French toast as per Boyd's request, but so far only Peter and Lydia had joined him in the kitchen.

Peter didn't spend a ton of time with the pack, but he tried to make an effort to socialize more often. They were all on an understanding with each other but he wasn't pack. Not truly. He didn't seem to mind too much, wanting to give everyone their space. Peter had also been spending a substantial amount of time updating their information on other packs, territory boundaries, and other important werewolf related information.

He'd agreed to share much of what he'd found over the weekend, which was why he was also making more of an effort with pack activities.

"You can always ask, Stiles," replied Peter, with that trademark smirk that said he didn't have to answer.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "How come you never got married? I get the whole mate thing is rare but I always got the impression that before the fire you were just as into the whole family pack thing as Derek was. "

"I was," said Peter. "I know I went a little crazy after the fire…"

"Little?" said Lydia, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Stiles too looked at him in disbelief.

"Fine. A lot crazy," acknowledged Peter. "But yes, before then I very much liked the idea of having a family."

"So why didn't you?" asked Lydia. She and Peter had worked through his torture of her but she still only barely trusted him. He'd proven that he was different now, even apologized for what his hallucinations did, and everyone believed him. It was hard not to when they could hear his heartbeat and determine a truth or a lie. But Lydia still felt like there was something missing, some secret she couldn't figure out. And maybe Peter didn't even know what it was yet but it was there.

"I don't know," answered Peter thoughtfully. "I'm not trying to be coy, it's just…I don't know. I think there was a bit of a romantic in me; I always liked the idea of finding my mate. I didn't want to just settle for someone I could love and live with."

"You wanted the person you couldn't live without," said Lydia softly.

"Yes, I believe I did. That's a big part of the philosophy behind mates actually. It's said that one can't live without the other. I suppose it must be true. I've never met a living, bonded mate whose other half wasn't still alive. And for years it always seemed like she was out there somewhere."

Stiles found an opening to get back into the conversation. "But now it doesn't?"

Peter looked at him, slightly confused.

"You said it did seem. Like you don't feel like she's out there anymore," clarified Stiles.

"Sorry. It's…I'm not even sure how to explain it." Peter hesitated and Stiles could tell he really was trying to sort it out in his mind. "It feels like I already met her."

"Wouldn't you remember that?" asked Stiles.

"That's the thing. You might have these because of your mother actually," said Peter. "Do you ever get a flash of a memory of the two of you? But one where you only have a flicker, so you're not really sure if it's real or something someone told you or just something you made up and think is a memory?"

Stiles nodded. He actually did have a few of those. They were frustrating, like a light that shone from a room he could never quite find.

"I have that. Ever since I came back," explained Peter, "there's the barest hint of a memory."

"What's in the memory?" queried Lydia, her voice soft, caught up in the story Peter was telling.

"A flower," answered Peter. "That's it. Just a little flower. And the overwhelming sensation that I found my mate a number of years ago."

Lydia's eyes were slightly sad. "Sometimes I wonder what it must feel like to know someone's your mate. Werewolves are lucky in that way."

"It's not just werewolves," said Stiles. "Or maybe one has to be involved but knowing who he, or she," he added quickly, realizing he was kind of starting to share a lot, especially considering he and Derek hadn't really had this discussion, "is, it's like finding a missing puzzle piece. That's what my dad says at least. That the right person is the one who fills in the details of your life, not just the background."

"That's really beautiful, Stiles," said Lydia. Her eyes had the hint of tears.

Luckily, Erica and Boyd swooped in at that moment, bickering over who got to take on Allison in the day's training, and the trio were distracted from the poignant conversation.

Lydia turned to brew a fresh pot of coffee, hiding her eyes as she recovered while Peter and Stiles occupied themselves with making plates for the newcomers.

* * *

Lydia, Stiles & Allison had been working hard at a plot since Derek had told them about the training weekend and were fairly certain they had the perfect plan. Since the day's focus was on werewolf politics, of which Peter had informed scott there was a LOT, the physical training had been reduced to a game of hide and seek. Derek gave the three humans an hour head start to hide anywhere within Hale territory so long as they got there on foot. The wolves paired up, two to each human and had 2 hours to find them. Any human that could stay hidden, won.

The seek part of training was also designed to emphasize team work. Erica had to work with Danny, Boyd with Jackson, and Isaac with Scott. Allison had told Derek and Peter to team up and join during the final half hour. The other wolves laughed, assuring Allison it wouldn't take them that long to hunt them down.

They'd taken off running, making sure they were out of earshot before slowing down.

"How far, Stiles?" asked Allison.

Stiles looked around, found his bearings, and searched for a mark he'd carved on a tree. "Ten yards west of that tree," he answered.

Once there, all three hurriedly dug into the ground to pull up the box Stiles had buried the day before. Peter established when the weekend started that the humans were allowed any advantage they could find. In separate compartments were socks belonging to each of them. They were dirty, to strengthen the scent. Stiles had taken one of his and wrapped it in a shirt of Derek's just in case the Alpha joined the game.

Lydia pulled out a spray made of various herbs and vigorously sprayed all the socks. The herbs wouldn't mask the scents but they would obstruct them. The goal was to confuse the wolves and throw them off the trail.

Allison used the bow from the box to shoot the socks into various directions into the trees. It was a waste of time to actually run the socks around to hiding spots.

Finally, Lydia grabbed the last bottle that looked like it was full of suntan oil. Stiles had finally perfected (he hoped) a wolfsbane mixture that would allow the human members to disappear from the wolves' scenting abilities.

All three scrubbed the oil into their arms, legs, face, and neck. It didn't have to cover every part to be effective but it did need to be applied fairly strong.

Once complete, the box was buried again and the three scattered to their pre-decided hiding spots. Stiles was in a small cave, Allison was perching in a tree and Lydia, in typical Lydia fashion, was sitting on a log in plain sight.

She said there was a lesson in it.

Derek howled, loud and piercing, to signal the wolves were on the hunt.

Stiles listened carefully as they searched. It took about 20 minutes for Erica and Danny to find one of his socks. The snarls made it clear that both found the distraction frustrating but a challenge. Unlike Jackson who was more than a little furious about the entire thing. Scott wasn't much better.

It took Peter telling both wolves to shut up before they stopped whining.

Scott and Isaac found Lydia at the 90 minute mark. Isaac was the one who finally figured out how. Scott kept bitching about the hiding and deception when it clicked for him. Lydia wasn't the type to hide from anything. Once he figured that our, tracking her down was easy. Lydia was proud. Her goal had been to get them to think like the prey.

At 100 minutes, Erica and Danny gave up, passing the job to Derek & Peter. After 5 more minutes, so did Jackson and Boyd.

The older wolves ran almost to the marked tree, just as the other wolves did. But they'd later reveal that unlike the younger wolves who started scenting, Peter and Derek listened and used their knowledge of Stiles and Allison to determine the type of hiding spot each would choose and how far that would be from the tree that held the last strong scent.

Peter made quick work of finding Allison. With 8 minutes left, stood under her tree and with his usual sarcasm, said he'd prefer not to bark like a hound over treeing his prey.

Allison asked how he found her. Peter hesitated, trying to let his wolf senses but when Allison insisted he very politely reminded her that tracking Argents wasn't exactly a new concept for him.

She walked behind him to the house with a tighter grip on her bow.

Stiles waited until Derek howled to signal the game was over but stayed hidden. He knew his boyfriend well. Derek wouldn't like giving up.

Stiles didn't have to wait too much longer. One minute Stiles was holding his breath and the next Derek was pulling him out by his ankles.

"Found you," he said, looking ridiculously proud of himself.

"Not in time," retorted Stiles. "I still win."

Derek did a little half huff, half growl thing to indicate his acquiescence to Stiles' victory. He stood up, helping Stiles as he went and started to walk towards the house.

"Don't I get a prize?" complained Stiles, leaning against the side of the cave entrance.

"What'd you have in mind?" asked Derek, turning back towards Stiles.

"You're the werewolf, you think of something. Otherwise we have a problem."

Derek was in front of Stiles in two steps. "You know werewolves aren't magic. Our special abilities are pretty simple. We have claws." He slid his fingers up Stiles' sides and along the underside of his arms, pushing slightly to force Stiles to raise his arms over his head.

"Claws, got it. Not seeing a prize yet," said Stiles. His voice stayed steady but his heart was beating faster.

"There's super-strength." Derek gripped Stiles' wrists in one hand, holding them above his head against the stone. He used his other hand to brace himself.

Stiles shuddered and was pleasantly satisfied when Derek trembled a little in response. "Uh huh, strength."

Derek leaned in close and licked along Stiles' neck, starting with the hollow in his throat and moving up to just behind his ear. His breath was hot and heavy and he nipped slightly at Stiles' earlobe, happy when it resulted in an indistinguishable sound of submission form the human. "And as you can see, werewolves find tongues very useful."

He moved his hips into Stiles as he licked the other side of his neck. "Tell me, Stiles," he growled. "Do you think a werewolf is a good enough prize or is there still a problem?"

Stiles strained to move his arms to pull at Derek's hair, to pull him closer, but the wolf held them firm.

Derek bit at Stiles' bottom lip. "Well?"

"Jesus, Derek," said Stiles, rocking his hips upward. "We're gonna have a very different problem in a minute."

Something registered in Derek's eyes and he dropped Stiles' arms and stepped back in a hurry. "Sorry. I got carried away."

"No shit, Sherlock." Stiles was breathing heavy. He was into what they were doing, way into it, and honestly while it would have made for an uncomfortable walk, coming in his pants wasn't exactly against his no-sex rule. He just didn't know if he could keep it there. And there was still that little part of him that needed to hear three little words from Derek before anything else could happen.

At least Derek didn't look like he was doing much better.

"So back to the house?" asked Stiles cheerfully, though he didn't make an effort to move.

Derek glared at him. "Are you kidding me?"

"Or you know, in a few minutes," amended Stiles.

When they were both sufficiently recovered, they made their way back to the house. Both were trying to figure out how to bring up the subject again. They'd talked about this issue before, kinda had to, but there was always the unspoken part that lingered.

The question of whether Derek trusted Stiles enough to say I love you, whether he could really move past his fear of being hurt again, the way Kate hurt him before.

And yeah Derek knew Stiles was far better than Kate could have ever been and Stiles knew Derek didn't really think he was going to pull that kind of shit but there was a big difference between knowing it and hearing the words out loud. By the time they were in sight of the house, the awkward silence was reaching ridiculous proportions.

Erica chose that moment to dump a bucket of cold water over both of them.

"What the fuck?!" yelped Stiles.

Derek growled at her.

"Oh please," scoffed Erica. "Like you two didn't need that. We can smell the angst from here."

"Erica," said Derek warningly.

"I mean it barely overpowers the sex but…"

"And we're going now," interjected Boyd, swooping in to pull Erica away. He'd agreed the distraction was necessary but it didn't mean Erica should risk pushing it.

Isaac pulled Stiles away at the same time. "I need you," he declared, giving Stiles a look that clearly said 'make your escape now' and stiles gratefully took the out, following him to the house.

Derek watched and while he'd never say it, he was grateful that his pack was looking out for the two of them.

* * *

While the rest ate lunch before an afternoon of what Peter promised would be the least scintillating lesson of their lives, Lydia opted to take a quick nap.

_*dream*_

_"Hey Lydia," says a teenage boy. He's sitting on a blanket in the middle of the forest, a paper sack next to him and the sweetest, most hopeful look that Lydia's ever seen._

_"Hi,' she answers softly. "You made a picnic."_

_"You said if your first date was forgettable I'd never get a chance at a second one."_

_Lydia smiles. "I think you're on track to make this one memorable." She sits down on the blanket, taking the hand offered to help her and lets her fingers linger in his an extra moment to show she was appreciative._

_He pulls sandwiches and colas out of the bag, along with sliced apples. _

_"Peanut butter & jelly?"_

_He turns red. "I'm not very good at cooking. Is it terrible? It's terrible."_

_Lydia reaches out and wraps his hand in hers. "It's perfect. I like peanut butter."_

_He smiles, an innocent smile that for some reason reminds Lydia that she's not used to seeing that look. Then his eyes light up, as though he remembers something important. _

_"Here," he says softly, reaching back into the bag and placing something in her hands._

_She looks down to see a tiny purple flower. "It's beautiful. Honeysuckle right?"_

_He nods. "It means…never mind."_

_Lydia pulls his head back to her as he tries to turn away. "What does it mean?"_

_"Devoted love," he answers, blushing._

_"I'll keep it forever," she promises._

_*end dream*_

Lydia wakes up from her dream with an odd feeling of contentment mixed with loss. She can't remember anything she dreamed about, making it frustrating, but shakes it off as no big deal. The only thing she can't really understand is why there's a dried purple flower in her hand. Lydia goes to throw it away but something stops her. She slips the flower in her pocket and joins the others for the afternoon lesson.

* * *

"So you can really start a war just from crossing into another pack's territory?" clarifies Danny as he helps Allison clean up the plates from dinner. Only Isaac, Scott, Allison, and Stiles were exempt from doing dishes but Allison had agreed to help. Lydia had been distant all night anyway.

"Oh shit what if I walk into it on accident?!" Scott looks panicked.

"No one's going to kill you for being you, dumbass," mocks Jackson.

Derek glares at him for being rude though he kind of appreciated that someone called Scott out on what was a stupid statement.

"There are still rules," he answers. "You have to make a declarative statement that your purpose is to attack. Passing through requires sending a beta to politely ask permission. Attacking usually comes with an assault on a pack member, destruction of property, or in the case of a few packs, a proper declaration of war."

"I don't remember learning any of that," says Isaac.

"Maybe if you two bothered studying instead of petting the puppies at Deaton's, you'd get this stuff," says Boyd, exasperated.

Stiles laughs loudly at Isaac and Scott's kicked puppy looks. Derek just rolls his eyes and tells the four losing werewolves to finish the dishes.

"Honeysuckle!" exclaims Peter suddenly.

Several heads turn to him in confusion.

"Um, is that like a code word or something?" asks Stiles. "Honeysuckle is the password to get on Hale territory?"

Peter shakes his head, realizing he spoke out loud. "Sorry, I just remembered something."

Most of the pack turns away, with Jackson making a comment about them having to deal with a crazy uncle again that is thankfully ignored. Derek and Stiles look at him with expectations of a further explanation. Lydia is unnaturally quiet and if anyone bothered to look at her, would see an expression of anxiety on her face, as though she was just shy of figuring out an answer.

"The flower," clarifies Peter. "The flower I remembered…"

"From this morning?" asks Stiles.

Peter nods. "I don't know why it matters to me but it was purple honeysuckle."

Lydia jolts in her chair, her face turning ashen as the full memory of the dream returns.

"Lydia?" Derek sees her face and is at her side in an instant.

She's breathing hard, almost hyperventilating and looks like she's on the brink of a panic attack.

"Lydia, what is it?" asks Derek. "What's wrong?" The rest of the pack gathers around her as well.

Lydia takes a deep breath and takes a second to gather her thoughts. She reaches into her pocket and holds out her hand. "Peter," she says softly.

Peter holds his hand out, baffled as to what is going on but recognizing she's trying to hand him something.

Lydia drops the flower into his hand. Peter looks down and his skin pales. She reaches out, closes his hand around the flower and pulls away.

"I don't understand." Peter's voice is quiet, serious, and full of an innocence that baffles everyone else.

"Neither do I," she answers, still looking scared but with that determined to figure this out face that everyone knows so well.

"Any chance of explaining what the hell is going on to the rest of us?" thundered Derek, Alpha voice at full power.

"I was given this flower on a date with a boy," says Lydia. "We had a picnic and he gave me the flower and I said I'd keep it."

"When was this?" demands Jackson.

"When I was sixteen," answers Lydia.

Peter continues the story. "I once took a girl on a picnic date when I was sixteen. I made her peanut butter and jelly and I remember being terrified that she wouldn't look at me a second time if I did something wrong."

"Lydia likes peanut butter and jelly," says Scott and Allison places her hand on his arm, warning him not to interrupt.

"And at the end of the date," says Lydia, "he gave her a little flower, purple honeysuckle because it symbolized devoted love."

Peter's voice was barely above a whisper. "She agreed to keep it forever." He looked down at the flower in his hand.

"I don't understand," complained Scott.

Stiles and Allison were both staring at Peter and Lydia in shock. "I don't think anyone does," said Stiles.

Peter and Lydia didn't move. They didn't say a word.


	7. Chapter 7

Two days after the bonding weekend, everyone was getting excited about Thanksgiving coming up in a couple days. Stiles had already agreed to have everyone at his house for dinner and even his dad was looking forward to the gathering. The quick pack meeting was to decide a holiday training schedule.

Stiles could sense the tension in the room, primarily between Peter and Lydia who he knew hadn't talked about what happened yet. They both still seemed to be trying to process all possible ramifications. So when Derek said to follow him and something about a surprise, Stiles practically threw himself out of the room.

And stopped short when Derek led him into another room. It was a library. Small but with a window seat and higher ceilings and full of books.

Stiles looked around the little library in awe. There were research books and note paper and a computer on a desk in the corner. It was perfect. "You did this for me?" he asked in disbelief.

Derek stammered a little. "Well I know you like learning and when you can't sleep you research and I thought you should have a place you can do that here." He took a deep breath like he was glad he got that out. "You really like it?"

"I love it," he assured his boyfriend. "There's kind of a Disney princess vibe going on but anyone who didn't grow up wanting someone to give them a library is an idiot. Seriously. I love it." Stiles paused. "I love you."

Derek stared at him, his eyes going dark. Stiles realized what he said but didn't try to take it back. He refused to take it back. Stiles didn't want to pressure Derek though. As many hang-ups as Stiles had with trust, Derek had more.

He seemed to struggle with how to respond so Stiles stepped closer and kissed him. Soft and sweet and quick. Then Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek and leaned into him.

The werewolf finally snapped out of it because he tilted Stiles' head up and kissed him hungrily. And oh yeah Stiles could get used to this. He kissed back, wanting Derek. More. Always more.

A few minutes later and the kissing had intensified significantly and both of them had discarded their shirts and Derek was nuzzling at Stiles' neck.

Stiles moaned and felt Derek drop to his knees in front of him. He shuddered as Derek placed feather light kisses on his hip bone and hands pulled at his belt buckle.

Oh fuck he wanted this. The only problem was the earlier scene kept replaying through his head. And as much as Stiles wanted to tell his brain to shut up and let him enjoy this, he couldn't help but acknowledge that he needed to hear Derek say he loved him. Jackson could mock him for being a romantic and it might give him blue balls for a week but it mattered to Stiles. It mattered a lot.

So he pushed at Derek's hands, hands that were currently undoing the fly of his jeans. "Derek, stop."

Derek just moved to lick up his stomach and Stiles' traitorous body twitched in response.

He pushed again though. "Derek, no. I can't. Not like this."

Derek growled at him and pinned his hands against his side.

Now Stiles was getting angry and angry meant he could think clearly. He was definitely different from werewolves in that regard. "I told you I'm not ready. I want to know how you feel about me first."

"You know how I feel," mumbled Derek. He nipped at Stiles' waistband, starting to pull downward.

"And you know I need to hear you say it," answered Stiles, trying to pull his hands out of Derek's grip.

Derek growled. "C'mon Stiles."

"No!" Stiles kicked Derek hard and considering the anatomy in front of him, it was enough to make Derek move.

He stayed crouched for a minute and Stiles took the opportunity to button his jeans and find his shirt. Once he was dressed, he stood on the other side of the room. Their disagreements never lasted very long and Stiles wanted to say his piece before making up from this one.

Derek recovered enough to stand up. "What the fuck, Stiles?"

"We've talked about this, Derek. Or were you just going to blow me whether I wanted it or not?"

"You sure seemed like you wanted it."

Stiles glared. "So not the point."

"Maybe it is," said Derek. "You know how I feel. You're mine."

"Oh my god, enough with the fucking possessive wolf words!" yelled Stiles. "Mine, mine, mine, I get it. Tell me you love me. Say the words."

"that's not how the wolf…" started Derek.

"If you try and pull that the wolf is in control bullshit again, I'm going to scream. You're not a wolf some days and a man other days. You are a werewolf. Both." Stiles was furious now. "I know you've said I love you before so it's not a foreign concept."

"Oh so if I just say the words that'll work for you," snapped Derek. "It's not that easy."

Stiles nearly spit in rage. "I'm aware it's not easy for you. Jesus, Derek, you don't think I know that?"

"Then why make me say it?" Derek's fangs kept jumping in and out, showing his struggle to maintain control.

"I'm not making you do anything! But if I have to respect your need for more time, you can damn well respect that I want to wait until then."

Stiles breathed heavily, waiting for Derek to respond the way he usually did, with an apology and understanding. And then he'd reassure Derek that they'd get there eventually and things would go back to normal.

He should have sensed this wasn't a normal fight.

"What if I'm never ready?" asked Derek quietly.

"Never ready?" Stiles couldn't be hearing this right. "You're telling me you might never be able to say you love me?"

"Well, what if?" growled Derek. "What happens if I can't let go of the past as much as you want me to?"

"Unbelievable." Stiles walked out of the room. Fuck Derek.

Derek stormed after him and followed him into the kitchen. "Stiles!"

Stiles barely registered that the pack was there, waiting on the meeting that was supposed to follow Derek's gift. "Don't push me, Derek," said Stiles, grabbing his keys from the counter. He needed a chance to calm down before he said something he'd regret.

"We're not done," snarled Derek.

"Oh yes, we are."

Derek grabbed Stiles' arm and stopped him. "I said stay here," he said in his full on Alpha command voice, the one that insure the pack obeyed.

Except Derek and Stiles had a rule that he would never bring the Alpha into their personal relationship. And if Derek thought Stiles was upset before, he hadn't seen anything yet.

"Let me go," said Stiles, his voice hard. He jerked his arm away.

Derek growled. No. The Alpha growled. Loud and commanding.

Stiles bared his teeth and snarled.

Isaac and Scott both gasped. Stiles might not have the force of a true werewolf but his actions were 100% pack in that moment. He was challenging Derek, defying him and you just didn't do that.

The move seemed to be enough to shake Derek because he stood still as Stiles pushed past him. "You stay the fuck away from me," he yelled at Derek as he left.

Stiles could sense that Scott followed him outside and he knew the others were listening. On one level it bothered him but he'd learned to make his peace with it.

In a lot of ways, it wasn't the wolves' fault. It was sort of like accidentally catching part of a conversation in a coffee shop and not even realize you were listening for awhile. And sometimes it helped when he needed to talk and didn't care to repeat himself.

So with a sigh, Stiles slammed the door shut on his jeep and turned to his best friend. "What do you want, Scott?"

"You challenged him, Stiles." Scott still couldn't believe it. "Like defied the Alpha. You have to go back in there and talk to him."

"No I don't," answered Stiles.

"This is serious," reiterated Scott.

Stiles kicked at the ground in frustration. "You don't get it, Scott."

"Don't say that. I'm not stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid," said Stiles and looked puzzled at Scott. Did he act like he did? He'd work on that. "You just look at the main problem and there's more going on here," explained Stiles. His voice was still raised but calming down.

"Then explain it to me. Stiles, you know you can't just casually challenge an Alpha. Even Derek."

"It wasn't a casual challenge." He ignored Scott's look of horror. "Derek and made a deal when we started this that he would never pull Alpha rank within our personal lives. And I agreed to adhere to his authority on pack matters, even though as a human I'm not bound by the same hierarchy."

His voice grew earnest, trying to make sure everyone, not just Scott, understood that this was important. "I'm challenging the Alpha to get out of our relationship because he wasn't supposed to be there in the first place."

Scott seemed to genuinely want to understand. "I get the idea but why is it so important, Stiles?"

Stiles was quieter when he answered. "Because otherwise we're going to end up in some twisted and abusive relationship. I can't be with someone who thinks it's normal to assert dominance in the relationship. On that level, we have to be equals. That means my opinions have to matter and my needs have to be important and the Alpha can't be involved."

"Maybe Derek didn't mean to do it," offered Scott.

Stiles shook his head. "We all know Derek doesn't do anything he doesn't want to. So until he's ready to admit that we have to be equals and is ready to actually talk to me like an adult, I'll be at home."

Then he did get in his jeep and drive away, waiting until he was out of earshot to cry.

* * *

**Quick note. Hopefully I worded it decently but I didn't want this to come across as Derek trying to force Stiles. I just wanted it to be kind of like Derek not listening to what Stiles was saying and very in the moment so Stiles took him out of the moment.**

**Also, so I have this sort of side Lydia/Peter story that does fit into this one but I'm currently debating if I want to just separate their story and have it be like a supplemental fic to this one. So reviews would be helpful. Do you like having their story told here or would you rather the two stories be completely separate?**


	8. Chapter 8

There was a distinct aroma of bacon and chocolate in the air when Stiles woke up the next morning.

That meant only one thing. Chocolate chip waffles were being made downstairs and that meant that his dad had heard him come in the door crying last night. Stiles seriously considered taking up permanent residence in his bed for a few minutes. And then he realized the call of bacon was too strong and made his way downstairs.

John handed his son a cup of coffee first, knowing Stiles needed his caffeine.

Stiles didn't even have the heart to lecture his dad on the unhealthy breakfast. He did however want to avoid talking so he ate quickly.

"Stiles. You might want to enjoy that instead of shoveling it down."

Stiles looked up, mouth full of waffle. "Is this a last meal thing?"

John laughed. "No. But we are going to talk."

"Nothing to talk about," answered Stiles, shoving another bite in his mouth.

"You came home crying last night. I haven't heard you cry in…geez son, since you were having panic attacks."

"It's not a big deal."

"Considering I spent the morning having Chris Argent talk me down from shooting Derek full of wolfsbane, I'd say it is."

Stiles stopped eating at that one. "What?!"

"And wait, why would Chris try and stop you from shooting Derek? He hates Derek."

John grinned. "Apparently Chris felt that you might be upset if I killed Derek and he indicated that in the past when he pisses you off, things don't go very well after that."

"That's valid," smirked Stiles.

"What happened, Stiles? Don't lie to me either."

"You won't go shoot Derek?"

"Not if you don't want me to."

Stiles shook his head.

"Then talk."

"Derek and I had a fight."

John reached across the table and pulled the fork out of Stiles' hand. "Stiles, I need you to really talk to me."

"He's just so closed off and emotionally available and I know that sounds ridiculous to want to talk about feelings and stuff as a guy but it matters to me and every time I bring anything like that up, he just shuts down. And he did that again yesterday and I kind of lost it and screamed a bunch and he got mad in return and I challenged the Alpha part of him and then I stormed away and came here. I know you see that there's like a deeper bond between us, Dad, and I appreciate that but sometimes it's really hard to imagine forever if I'm the only one who can say I love you." Stiles was crying again by this point. "And I know it seems ridiculous to be thinking about forever as a senior in high school but my world's not like most seniors so I think it's still reasonable."

"I don't think it's unreasonable, Stiles," said John once Stiles finished. "As a parent do I want you to go off to college and conquer the world? Yeah. But I want you to be happy more than anything and when you're with Derek you're the happiest I've seen you in years. So we'll fix this okay? We'll fix it."

"What if it Derek doesn't want to fix it?" asked Stiles very quietly.

"Then he's a fucking idiot."

Stiles laughed a little at that one and tried to wipe away some of the tears. John came around the table, pulled Stiles up into his arms and hugged him. "You know I'm always gonna be here, son. No matter what, I've got your back."

Stiles couldn't help himself. He held on tighter and started crying all over again. "I love you, dad."

"I love you too."

When they finally let go, John brought over fresh coffee and Stiles stole a piece of bacon off his dad's plate.

"What did your friends say about the fight?" asked John. "Maybe today's a good day to have Scott over, play video games or something."

Stiles shook his head. "They're on Derek's side."

John looked shocked at that one so Stiles figured he'd better explain.

"Or well, I don't know if they necessarily agree with Derek but I got so pissed off that I challenged him as the Alpha and so I think they feel like if they go against Derek then it's going against the Alpha and that means no one takes my side."

"That doesn't seem fair."

"No, it doesn't. But none of this is really fair."

"Well in that case, meet me at the station when I get off work and we'll go get whatever ingredients you need for Thanksgiving," said John. "But no tofu stuff. It's a holiday, I want the good stuff."

Stiles laughed and agreed.

* * *

Stiles and John had finally cleaned up the dishes and chose to forego pie in favor of football. Stiles was sprawled out on the couch, his dad in his armchair and it took all of twenty minutes for both of them to fall asleep.

Stiles woke up an hour later to a knock at the door. His attempt to get up ended up being more of an awkward fall off the couch.

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he opened the door to see Scott and Erica on the porch. "What the hell do you two want?"

Both wolves looked a little sheepish and Stiles briefly reflected that it wasn't fair how much it made them look like adorable puppies. Finally Erica shuffled her feet and muttered, "Catwoman to your Batman and all that."

Stiles gaped at her for a minute before accepting the best apology he was going to get out of her.

"Scott?" he turned to his best friend.

"I shouldn't have taken Derek's…I mean I should have listened…" Scott stammered.

Stiles glared.

"I'm sorry alright dude. I was a bad friend."

"Total dog."

"Don't push it Stiles," warned Scott.

"Is that apology supposed to cut it?" asked Stiles. He was planning on forgiving them both but he wasn't above pushing it a little.

Scott shoved a box at them. "Mom made your favorite pumpkin cookies."

Stiles grinned. "Food? All is forgiven. Erica, what'd you bring me?"

Erica handed him a canister of whip cream.

"Kinky."

Erica smacked him. "For pie, smartass."

"You couldn't bring an actual pie with you?"

"Do I look like I cook?"

Stiles yanked the can out of her hands, popped the cap and sprayed whip cream in his mouth. "Works for me," he said around a mouthful of the stuff.

He threw his arms around his two friends and headed back into the house to cut the pies and enjoy the rest of Thanksgiving.

* * *

"Stiles?"

He looked at Allison who was sitting at the kitchen table, poring over the information they had on territory rights. There was some confusion in the Northern California area and the small nearby college everyone planned on attending was on a few borders. Allison and Jackson were working with Stiles to try and figure out if the school fell into neutral territory or if they would need to request permission to attend from other packs.

It was a weird thing to focus on during the Christmas holidays but they'd all accepted a while ago that normal was not an adjective that belonged in their vocabulary.

"Yeah?" he answered now.

"You've been studying this stuff for a while now, right?"

Stiles nodded. "It seemed like one of those things an Alpha's boyfriend should know pretty well."

"Boyfriend?" Jackson gave him a puzzled look. "I thought you two were mates."

"…we are," said Stiles hesitantly. "It's just that right now, with this fight and Derek not wanting to admit how he feels, it's just…"

"Easier to make it sound like something simple?" offered Jackson.

"Yeah. Anyway, why do you ask Allison?"

"Well I'm trying to go through some of my dad's information on the packs that have been in this area for a while and it seems like there's a significant history of attacks from other packs trying to take over," said Allison.

Stiles waited for the rest.

"But there's a lot of unclaimed land across the country, and the world for that matter. So why would so many try and attack a place that's already held? And it's not a wolf thing because wolves don't go out picking fights."

Stiles picked up his coffee and moved over to the table with the others. He shuffled through several manuscript bundles before finding out which one he wanted.

"Okay yeah, I wanted to confirm this but it's not so much a wolf thing as it is a magic thing."

"Magic, like Harry Potter?" asked Jackson.

"More like nature's magic," clarified Stiles. "Remember when Peter explained that werewolves or any shape shifter is basically nature releasing the bind between human nature and animal nature and allowing both to work freely in the same person?"

The others nodded. It had seemed a little new agey at first but they finally got it. They all knew people had animalistic tendencies, those who were werewolves just got everything at once.

"So there are other bonds that can be formed too. The pack bond is one of the obvious ones as is the bond of mates but there are more," said Stiles.

"Like family bonds?" suggested Allison.

"Yes."

"Or home." Jackson looked surprised when both heads turned to him in confusion. "It's like when you find a place that feels like home, and then if you leave, you're somehow always trying to get back there. Like it belongs to you."

Stiles almost cheered. Jackson might still struggle not to be an asshole to people who weren't pack but when he latched onto a theory, he usually found more information than anyone else. "Exactly. And when a pack settled in on new territory, the combined pack bonds and home bonds solidified. It's hard to perfectly explain but an established territory makes a pack stronger and even a foreign pack can tap into that. The longer a pack held the land, the more deterrence it gives others about attacking it."

"Why would that be a factor?" asked Allison.

"I think because the territory itself binds with the original pack. A new pack is going to be weak and vulnerable for a long time after taking over. Plus if the originals ever wanted their land back, they'd not only have a legal right to do so but the land itself still recognizes that first claim. If that makes sense at all," finished Stiles, knowing it was a lot of information and even he didn't get it all.

"No, that makes sense. But what doesn't is why so many packs would move into the Northern California area and take that risk. There's been a lot of turnover in the last five years and a lot of bloodshed. Why would so many packs risk it?" Allison handed Stiles papers with various statistics as she spoke so he could see the numbers for himself.

Stiles studied. "Wait, this says the first reported attack was a little over six years ago."

"So what's that mean?"

"They started after the Hale fire. Derek's family must have had rules about fighting near them or something," said Stiles.

"I know the Hale pack has always been influential. It's one of the reasons my dad listens to Derek instead of automatically putting a wolfsbane bullet in his head. There's precedent or something," noted Allison.

Stiles smiled. "Well that explains it. Other packs knew the land was open and we know the Hales have been here for several generations. Packs must just keep thinking it's free game and worth attacking over. A multi-generation territory right next to unclaimed land probably still gives some strength to the pack that holds it."

"And the Alphas attacking us thought they just needed to be Alphas because this was actual Hale property." Allison grinned too. It was fun when the pieces together.

"Um guys?" Jackson waved a piece of paper in the air. "You're right about why the attacks started but I think there's more to it. A lot more."

"Like what?"

"Like it's not unclaimed territory," explained Jackson, his eyes wide. "It's Hale territory."

"The college?" asked Allison. She could see that. Derek had noted that education was important to his family.

"No. Well yeah but more than that." Jackson leaned over to the map that was in the center of the table and brushed the papers off it. He grabbed a marker and started drawing lines on the map, referring to the papers in his hand several times. Finally he sat back. "That's Hale territory."

Stiles looked at the map. Did a double take. Looked again. "Jackson, you just marked Oregon, most of California, Nevada, Washington up to Seattle, and Idaho. I think you're reading those papers wrong."

Jackson shoved the papers at Stiles. "I'm not. Everything here was originally Hale territory. Beacon Hills is just where the family actually settled in."

Allison swore. "No wonder so many packs tried to take over the outlying areas. This much territory under a multi-generation pack is impressive."

"That's the other holy shit part," said Jackson, handing Allison a book in front of him. "The Hales haven't been here for a few generations."

"Yes they have," interrupted Stiles. "It goes back to Derek's great great grandfather."

"I don't mean less. I mean more. The Hales established their territory seven hundred years ago," explained Jackson.

Stiles jaw dropped. "So you're saying our rag tag bunch of teenagers and emotionally stunted idiots are currently trying to protect a town that was built on centuries old werewolf territory?"

Allison interjected. "Uh, looks like the Hales are the ones that founded Beacon Hills actually."

Everyone was quiet, letting that sink in. Finally Stiles spoke. "Well I guess we can stop worrying about getting permission to go to college."

* * *

As it turned out, trying to explain to Derek what they'd found out was a lot harder. Mostly because he continued to insist on sulking through every pack meeting and refusing to listen to anyone.

After Scott and Erica had shown up at Stiles' on Thanksgiving, the rest of the pack seemed to come to a decision. They could still respect Derek but it didn't mean they were letting go of Stiles. Only Isaac and Lydia understood that the pack's attachment to Stiles went deeper because everyone spent most of the holidays at Stiles', only coming to the pack house for meetings. Even Peter had stopped by a couple times, making jokes and flashing creepy smiles but under it all was a need to be there.

The meetings weren't going well either. No one had realized just how much Stiles calmed Derek down with his presence. Now they'd bring up a concern and Derek would say he'd take care of it, going back to his the Alpha does it all attitude.

Lydia finally called Peter a week before Christmas and told him to meet her at a coffee shop in town, in an area Derek didn't usually frequent.

Peter arrived first and ordered two coffees. He stopped at the condiment bar to add cream and a dash of vanilla powder to his and then put cinnamon, nutmeg, and a liberal sprinkle of cocoa in Lydia's. It wasn't until he was sitting at the table that he realized Lydia had never told him what she liked in her coffee. He just knew that was right.

Lydia sat down and sipped at the mug Peter pushed towards her, eyes widening a bit but not saying anything about the coffee. "We have a problem and I think you're the only one who can fix it."

"We have more than one problem," answered Peter and he nodded at the coffee. "I shouldn't have known how to do that."

She sighed. "Okay yes, we have more than one problem. I just don't know how to deal with the you and I problem right now. It doesn't make any sense." Her eyes became slightly teary. "I hate you, Peter. So much of me hates everything about you, everything you did to me. And then now, underneath all that is this sense that I know you better than anyone and that I can trust you and I don't know what to do with that."

"I don't have any answers Lydia," responded Peter. "I wish I did. Hell, I wish this wasn't happening because I much prefer to be the villain lurking in the corner. It's worked for me for over seven years now. The creepy uncle in the shadows, the batshit crazy werewolf is a guy I know. Even if I'm not really him anymore, I know how to fake that." His hands shook around his coffee mug. "I've always been the err on the side of murder member of the family, even if I wasn't always this intense. I have no idea how to be this guy."

"Who is that?" asked Lydia softly, and her voice indicated she truly wanted to know.

"The guy who feels like he needs to protect you. Which is bizarre because you are one of the single toughest people I've ever met and I'm the last person who should want to protect you after what I did and that feeling in return is suffocating me with guilt for all that I put you through," answered Peter. "I don't know this person. I don't know why he exists."

Lydia set her coffee cup down and very determinedly looked Peter in the eye. "I don't understand what's going on either. I have this strange desire to pull you out of the darkness you think you belong in and a part of me feels like there are memories of happiness and contentment on a level I've never known before and they are hovering just out of reach. I don't know what it is or what it means but right now, I'm not ready to try and understand. So can we please focus on a problem that can be fixed?"

Peter nodded. "Okay." He drinks his coffee and finally speaks again. "I know you have a plan to knock some sense into my nephew's head. And if you asked to meet with me, obviously I'm involved."

"You automatically assume Derek's at fault?" Lydia knew it was Derek's fault. The pack had established a rule long ago that if the wolves overheard a conversation, they shared the information with the humans. If someone wanted true privacy, they had to request it. And this particular fight had been public anyway.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Even if he wasn't, Stiles clearly isn't going to break this fight first. But I think we all know that Derek is the one being emotionally stunted right now."

"Fair point."

"So what do you need me for?"

Lydia still had her this is going to be done my way voice but it was a little softer. "We all know he's cautious around Stiles because somewhere along the way Derek decided he had the potential to be like Kate. Which is utterly ridiculous in no small part to the fact that Derek doesn't have a secret desire to hurt Stiles so how he thinks he has to fight against that is beyond me. Falling in love isn't going to turn Derek into a monster. A monster can't love."

"Some monsters can," said Peter. "We just forget how."

Lydia acknowledged that. "This is a tough question, but I need an honest answer from you, Peter. Do you blame Derek for the fire?"

Peter never hesitated. "No. Not once. I blame Kate Argent and the people who helped her. It's why I killed them. " A twitch of viciousness is in his voice at that. "There's a tiny part of me that blames my brother and his wife but I have never felt any inclination to blame Derek for what happened."

"Tell him that, Peter," said Lydia. "Not because it will help mend his relationship with Stiles or with you. Tell Derek so he can stop killing himself with guilt."

"Okay."

Peter started to sip at his coffee when Lydia cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow.

"You meant go tell him now?"

"I'm not a patient person, Peter," answered Lydia.

Peter left.

* * *

On his way to the house, Peter called Stiles, knowing everyone had been hanging out at the Stilinski house throughout the break. He told Stiles to keep the pack there, saying he needed to talk to Derek and something in his voice must have convinced Stiles that it was important because he could hear the kid telling everyone the pack meeting was canceled and they were making sugar cookies instead.

Peter requested a reindeer and Stiles hung up on him.

"You're sure there's not a pack meeting?" asked Boyd when Stiles was off the phone.

"A) I know you were listening and b) I'm not really sure," answered Stiles. "I don't even know why Peter called me."

"Because he knows we're all over here and we'd listen to you more than him," said Scott as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Stiles realized it kind of was. "Well anyway, he sounded serious and not like we're in danger serious but like when my dad decides to cook dinner kind of serious talk."

Scott glanced at him in surprise at that, he knew the handful of times that the Sheriff cooked dinner usually were a big deal. The comparison Stiles was making implied this mattered.

"What do you think they're talking about?" asked Erica.

"I have no idea." Stiles started pulling cookie ingredients out of the cabinets and indicating the others should be helping. "And considering the situation between Derek and myself, I don't want to start guessing." If he sounded a little annoyed at the end so be it.

Allison and Isaac decided to head off any potential problems with this particular line of questioning.

"I'll start measuring," said Allison, grabbing the eggs out of the fridge as she moved into the kitchen.

"You have sprinkles right?" asked Isaac, leaning on the counter. He turned his full puppy eyes at Stiles. "I love sprinkles on Christmas cookies."

"You're ridiculous," laughed Stiles, pushing Isaac out of his way. "Of course we have sprinkles."

"Good," said Isaac with a self-satisfied look on his face.

Stiles just moved next to Allison to help mix up an additional batch of cookie dough. He didn't notice when Isaac slightly nodded at Allison and she winked back to indicate their success.

For the next several hours, the pack joined in making what should have been an insane amount of cookies but would probably just get through the day after Christmas. Well, most of the pack joined in. Danny and Jackson looked at Stiles like they couldn't believe he would even consider asking them to risk getting flour on their designer sweaters.

Stiles made little lumps of coal cookies for them in response.

As it turned out, everyone had their own style when it came to cookie decorating. Erica was a bizarre perfectionist, insisting every little detail be piped in with the appropriate color of frosting. Isaac and Allison spent more time licking frosting off their fingers than putting it on the cookies and Scott did his normal smear a bunch of frosting on top and call it good.

Lydia walked in the front door and immediately joined Jackson and Danny in the living room, saying that Boyd could decorate a cookie for her. Then everyone wanted Boyd to a cookie because he was practically an artist. He'd snagged all of the ornament shaped cookies and turned out a plate full of cookies that looked like he'd painted instead of frosted. Boyd promised to do one for each and then snarled when Scott suggested he do all of them.

By the time they were done and the kitchen had been cleaned up, it was kind of late to go home. Jackson, Danny, and Lydia had some sort of weird sprawl on the couch that looked completely uncomfortable and yet incredibly relaxing at the same time.

Allison and Scott took over the easy chair and Boyd pulled a pillow out from under Jackson's head to curl up at their feet. He was the one pack member who didn't seem to need physical touch, just being around everyone was enough.

Stiles trudged up to bed, briefly entertaining a little holiday depression over the fact that Derek wouldn't be there. He shouldn't have worried. Erica and Isaac had commandeered his bed. He took a moment to be happy that he'd gotten a king sized bed a few months ago.

"Really you two?" he asked, not all that upset.

Isaac pushed Erica over a little and shuffled to make room for Stiles. "See, s'all good," he mumbled against the pillow.

"C'mon Batman," muttered Erica waving a hand at him. "It's cold and I'm tired."

Stiles snuggled up under the covers, grateful that he had warm werewolves to insure he wouldn't wake up freezing in the middle of the night. Isaac nuzzled the back of his neck a little bit as he lay down. "No drooling in your sleep," warned Stiles.

Isaac just flipped over to face Erica and went to sleep. Stiles didn't last much longer.

* * *

While the majority of the pack was doing normal holiday activities, Peter was trying to get Derek to talk to him.

"I don't understand why you thought you could cancel the meeting," growled Derek. "I'm the Alpha. I decide these things. It's bad enough Stiles is…" He chose not to finish that sentence. "But I thought you were done trying to undermine me."

Peter considered it a mark of his growth that he didn't hit Derek. "I canceled it because I needed to talk to you. If you would shut up for five seconds."

Derek snarled at him.

"Oh fuck it," snapped Peter. "I was going to try and ease into this but this is absurd. Go make up with your boyfriend, mate, whatever. Enough already."

Derek glared. "It's not that easy. He wants something I can't give him."

"You could if you stopped with the self-inflicted guilt," retorted Peter. "Look, Derek, the fire, our family's death, it changed all of us. Not just me into a psycho killer but it changed you from the carefree kid who just wanted to play baseball and it changed Laura and it changed this damn town. But you were not at fault. You have got to stop blaming yourself."

Derek's jaw dropped. That was not what he was expecting to here at all.

"And furthermore," continued Peter, "this ridiculous nonsense in your head about you turning into Kate ends now."

"It's not nonsense," insisted Derek.

"Tell me then, do you want Stiles dead?"

"No!"

"Do you want to see him suffer, through the loss of a friend or family member?"

"No."

"Do you have any desire, influenced by wolf or humanity, to inflict emotional or physical pain on Stiles?"

"No," said Derek for the third time. "You know that. Stiles knows that."

"Well of course we know it, my dear idiotic nephew," said Peter. "But you don't seem to get it. Kate wanted to hurt you. She preyed on your youth and that fact that a teenage boy will do just about anything to get laid." He paused, thinking. "Well actually I don't think Stiles fits that category but he's a bit more special than most. The point, Derek, is that for you to become Kate, there would need to be some part of you that wanted to harm Stiles and there is not. So quit acting like there is."

"What if I hurt him on accident?" asks Derek, his voice quieter and unsure. "I wasn't trying to get our family killed but it still happened. Because of me."

"Not because of you."

Derek looked puzzled at his uncle.

Peter sighed. "Derek, I place the vast majority of the blame for this at Kate Argent's doorstep. A little on Gerard for raising a monster but primarily on Kate. She chose to use you in her plans. And allow me to be perfectly clear on something Derek. Kate did not need you to do it. Our family isn't exactly new to the werewolf world. The Hale name is known in hunter circles as a werewolf family and there is no way in hell that bitch didn't know that already. She came after you because she was a malicious, psychotic bitch who wanted to inflict the most possible pain."

Derek couldn't figure out how to do much more than stare at his uncle in shock. Even Laura had told him she forgave his mistake but he'd just assumed Peter felt the same way, that at the end of the day, it was his fault. But there was still one problem. "You said majority of the blame. So you still blame me? A little?"

"No. I blame your parents. Kate was 25 when she met you Derek. You've seen how lethal and smart Allison is and she's only 19. And Allison started learning this business at 17. Kate had made enough of a name for herself to be recognized in werewolf circles. I remember your dad telling me you were sneaking around with some girl but he wasn't going to look into it." Peter couldn't help the bitterness in his voice. "He should have. Derek, I loved my brother. I loved your mom. But our family should have known better. They should have snooped into your life and broken your teenage trust and figured out that you were sleeping with an Argent. And then, because I doubt you would have broken up with her, they should have kept a sharp eye on her and been prepared for attacks. Especially with extended family coming into town."

"Your father was the Alpha of his pack, Derek. He failed to protect them. He failed to protect you."

"I…" Derek had no idea what to say.

"I'm not trying to tarnish the memory of your parents," said Peter quickly. "But you need to stop blaming yourself for the fire. It wasn't your fault."

Derek hugged his uncle in response. The gesture turned out to be an intense moment for both men. Derek had been affectionate with Stiles, but realized in the moment that he hadn't actually had physical contact with a family member since Laura. And Peter hadn't since the fire.

It was a powerful moment as both held each other tightly, taking in the smell of family as they stood there.

Derek stepped away first. "Thank you," he said quietly.

"Thank Lydia," said Peter. "She's hard to argue with when she gets a plan."

The Alpha couldn't argue with that. They stood awkwardly for another minute when Derek's head snapped up. "I have to tell Stiles!"

"That he can't argue with Lydia?" teased Peter.

Derek didn't register the tone at all. "No, that I love him. Oh my god. I love Stiles. I..I said it. Peter, I said it!"

Peter bit back his laughter. "Good. But I don't think I'm the one who wants to hear it."

"Right." Derek threw his jacket on. "I have to go."

"It's like 1 in the morning, Derek," pointed out Peter.

Derek skidded to a stop. "You think I should wait? I should wait. I can do that. I'll just work out or…or sleep or something."

Peter rolled his eyes. "You're babbling more than Stiles. Forget it. Go patch things up. I can't believe I'm saying this but the house feels too damn empty without a bunch of bratty teenagers."

Derek was out the door before Peter even finished talking. He pulled up to the Stilinski house, saw Stiles' window was closed and stopped at the front door, not really sure what to do next. He couldn't just knock and trying to force his way in was bad.

A voice came from behind him. "You're in my way."

Derek turned to see John Stilinski behind him. John took one look at Derek as he moved to unlock the door. "Took you long enough," he said before letting Derek into the house.

John ignored Derek's dash upstairs in favor of snagging several cookies off the table while his son wasn't around to yell at him for it. He tucked blankets around the various humans and werewolves in his living room, set the timer for the coffee and shook his head briefly at what his life had become before going to bed.

Stiles woke up to his bedroom door banging into the wall. Well to be more precise, he woke up to Isaac kneeing him in the back because Isaac reacted to the door.

"Shit," muttered Derek, carefully closing it behind him.

"Derek?" asked Stiles, remembering his dad's advice but sleepy enough to not really understand what was going on. "Turn on the desk light."

Derek flicked the switch to give some soft light to the room. He finally noticed Isaac and Erica asleep in the bed. "Oh. I should have come by in the morning."

Stiles sat up part way, pushing Erica's arm away from where it was draped across both boys. "You're here now. And you sound funny. Whatever it is, it's obviously important so just say it, Derek."

"I love you."

Stiles jolted up, fully awake. "You what?"

"I love you." Derek sounded almost giddy. "I, Derek Hale, love you, Stiles."

Stiles stared at Derek for the longest time, letting the words replay in his head. Derek just waited quietly, knowing he was still the one in the wrong and that he had a lot to apologize for and he would. He'd do whatever Stiles needed, even if that meant going back home, though he desperately hoped that wasn't what Stiles wanted.

Finally, Stiles shoved Isaac and Erica over on the bed. "It's about damn time. Now come here."

Derek sipped off his jacket and shoes and crawled into the bed. Neither of them said a word and they didn't kiss either. Stiles just looked in Derek's eyes, the last hint of uncertainty lingering and Derek's eyes answered.

Then Stiles burrowed into Derek's arms and he nuzzled his head on Stiles' neck, and all was right with the world.

* * *

**Aw happy endings. Don't get used to it. This series is going to get so angsty it's ridiculous. I know Derek was a little more forthcoming in this last scene and it might have seemed out of character AND IT SHOULD. I wanted to play it as Derek getting this burden lifted for the first time and his reaction to that is very abnormal and he's just sort of overwhelmed by this lack of guilt and the ability to feel like he won't hurt the people he loves. I wanted that excitement to just kind of take over for a little bit. He's not going to take it back but growly Derek hasn't gone away. Scott will probably piss him off soon enough.**

**As for Peter telling Derek it wasn't his fault, I love a lot of fanfic out there that has Stiles convince Derek of this. But I wanted to explore the idea that even if Stiles has been saying it, Derek hasn't been listening to him. He needed to hear it from Peter. Plus, I personally think that if the Hales had been known for so long and the Argents are so damn good at what they do, then there really is no way that Kate needed Derek to figure out who they were and where they lived. So I wanted to bring that into play.**


	9. Chapter 9

The plan was Christmas at the Stilinski house.

First Derek had said that everyone should spend Christmas with their family. Except for years, that meant Scott & Melissa McCall joined Stiles & John sometime around midmorning and kicked off the day with coffee cake. The whole arrangement had started when both Stiles and Scott admitted to each other that the holidays kind of sucked when they had a missing family member. They theorized that it would be better if they did Christmas together.

It never really worked, at least not like they planned, but it did manage to keep everyone's minds off the sadder aspects of the day for a while.

While it completely weirded everyone out, John Stilinski had already extended an invitation to Chris Argent that he and Allison join them as well. Stiles was going to laugh at his dad for that decision when Chris accepted. And promised to behave towards Scott.

So progress. Of sorts.

Then Isaac had dropped the most obvious hints in the world about how he didn't have any family to spend Christmas with. So Stiles invited him and then Boyd as well whose foster parents were happy to let him enjoy the day.

Erica was still fighting with her mom and pretty much invited herself.

Then Jackson & Lydia mentioned that their families were going to Italy through January and they had nowhere to go. Stiles did not think Lydia's puppy dog eyes were fair at all. Jackson's however were ten times worse when he asked if he could bring Danny.

All of which meant that when Stiles woke up the morning after Derek professed his love, his first thought was '_oh shit no one invited Derek to Christmas'._

Luckily Stiles was also quite adept to adapting to situations so he realized he just had to ask Derek to stay for Christmas. And if today being Christmas Eve meant it was a little last minute, well he was pretty sure Derek didn't have better plans.

Once Stiles solved that problem, his eyes fluttered open to see Derek watching him.

"You're thinking really loud," whispered Derek.

"Well you listen way too quietly," retorted Stiles.

"I said I love you," said Derek.

"I heard. Say it again."

"I love you."

Derek leaned forward a few inches and kissed Stiles.

"Would it be completely cliché of me to want to have sex with you so soon after you saying those words?" asked Stiles.

Derek grinned, one of his slow, building smiles that Stiles loved. "I think I could get over being used like that pretty quickly."

Stiles kissed Derek back then kicked his foot backwards. "Isaac! Erica! Get out!"

Isaac hit him. "We're sleeping, Stiles."

Erica just groaned. "Why are you being so loud? I don't want to hear your voice disturbing my precious sleep."

"I'm about to be loudly screaming my boyfriend's name while he fucks me into oblivion," said Stiles, giving Derek a positively filthy look. "If you really want to be here for that, by all means, stay in bed."

He rolled over and sat up so he was straddling Derek before leaning down and kissing him again.

Isaac and Erica nearly threw themselves out of the bed. "I hate you both," yelled Erica as she left but without any real venom in her voice. It bothered everyone when Derek and Stiles fought.

"Um on the screaming, maybe remember that there are a lot of people here with really good hearing," said Isaac as he closed the door behind them.

Stiles ignored them both. He was too busy trying to help Derek pull off his shirt.

* * *

At some point that day, Stiles asked Derek if he wanted to stay for Christmas the next day.

Derek took a quick trip home to get a change of clothes and the presents that he'd bought.

Stiles made himself lunch while Derek was gone and handed Lydia a shopping list for any last minute groceries.

When Derek returned, Stiles gloated over the fact that he had two presents while the others each only had one until Scott told him to shut up.

Then Stiles just smirked and pulled Derek after him into his room. He made a point to lock it this time. Jackson hadn't knocked before trying to find Danny earlier that day.

Lydia yelled through the door before she went to the store that she expected both of them to be done and showered in time to cook dinner at 5pm.

Derek and Stiles came downstairs at 4:59, hair wet from the shower, both with ridiculous grins and hands linked together.

"You two are ridiculously adorable," cooed Allison when Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles and sniffed at his neck while they stood in the kitchen.

"I know," said Stiles smugly.

"Ridiculously adorable doesn't cook dinner," commented Lydia from where she was yelling at Jackson & Boyd not to drop anything that they were bringing in from the car.

"The shopping list I gave you had six things on it," noted Stiles.

"I added to the list," said Lydia, as though that should be obvious.

It really was.

He chose not to help the boys bring in groceries and instead started pulling out all of the necessary ingredients for spaghetti. It was a simple Christmas Eve dinner but as soon as the guest list had gone over six people, and more than one werewolf, it had seemed the best choice.

"Lydia, did you get?"

"Bag by the stove."

It was nice that Lydia knew what he was asking. Stiles used to make spaghetti all the time. He'd make homemade meatballs and fry up spicy sausage to put on top and everyone loved it. Until the incident just after Halloween when Scott for some unknown reason decided to suck the sauce off a sausage before eating it. It was a moment that Jackson and Erica STILL teased Scott about.

Stiles had used a meat sauce ever since.

He put the two biggest pots he had at the back of the stove to start the water boiling and let the meat brown in a skillet. Other than his secret recipe sauce, the meal was pretty simple. The key to feeding the pack was to make a lot of food. And then make a little bit more.

"Scott!" he yelled. "You and Allison start making garlic bread."

Allison looked at him in shock. "You're letting Scott cook?"

Stiles shook his head. "Right. I mean, Scott can help Isaac set the table and find extra chairs for everyone to sit at. Lydia can work with Allison."

"I don't do manual labor, Stiles," sniffed Lydia.

Stiles just handed her a tub of butter and gave her a little shove. She considered pouting at him to see if it would get her out of helping but thought better of it at Derek's glare.

"Danny, Boyd, and Jackson can make salads," finished Stiles as he turned back to his pots and pans.

"What about Erica?" huffed Scott.

No one questioned Derek's lack of involvement.

"Erica's busy," growled Derek and that was that.

The next hour passed by easily. Jackson kept throwing bits of onion at the back of Scott's head and then pasting on a 'who me' look that no one bought. Lydia would steal bites of garlic bread the minute it came out of the oven until every single piece had little pinch marks in it. Allison would make happy sounds whenever Derek and Stiles started being gushy and then she'd slip away from her post to plant a kiss on Scott's cheek. Even Boyd was letting out a rare smile at the ridiculous happiness in the room.

As they all sat down to dinner, Erica returned with a Sheriff who wasn't asking questions about the single deputy who had miraculously volunteered to work the rest of Christmas Eve, Melissa McCall fresh off her holiday shift, and a reluctant Peter Hale.

"Looks like you brought back more than the strays I asked for," commented Stiles as the newcomers joined them.

"You asked for two," answered Erica. "Lydia asked for the other."

Peter looked at Lydia in surprise while the others at the table immediately found a new fascination in their salads. Only Jackson & Derek kept a wary eye on the pair.

Lydia only glanced up briefly. "We'll figure us out eventually. But you're pack, Peter. You should be with everyone on Christmas."

"Thank you," said Peter softly.

And because everyone was sitting around awkwardly, Stiles chose that moment to lean over and place a wet and rather sloppy kiss on Derek's lips.

"Gross!" exclaimed Jackson.

Several others burst out laughing and the tension quickly dissipated.

Stiles happily discovered that he had indeed made enough to eat, even after Boyd & Danny put away four helpings each. Peter even volunteered to do the dishes, though he made the rest of the pack boys help, citing that the hosts shouldn't have to clean up their mess.

Allison made hot chocolate for everyone and Lydia passed out the rest of the Christmas cookies and the pack grabbed their various seats in the living room once all was clean and settled.

"So it's kind of a thing to have a movie night on Christmas Eve," said John Stilinski, from his seat at the card table with Peter & Melissa. "Figured we'd keep that going."

"We're watching It's a Wonderful Life," demanded Lydia instantly.

"Try Miracle on 34th Street," insisted Allison.

Jackson growled. "Muppet Christmas Carol is obviously the best."

While several people turned to stare at Jackson for that particular choice, Stiles gave an exaggerated sigh and motioned for Scott to put the usual movie in.

"I said you were invited for Christmas," he said to the others. "I didn't say you got a say in what we watch. It's The Santa Clause or nothing bitches."

"Language."

"Sorry dad. Sorry Melissa."

Melissa laughed and waved him off.

"Really?" asked Derek quietly once Stiles settled back into his arms.

"It was the first Christmas movie I watched with my mom," he answered. "She insisted it be tradition. It's one of the only ones I couldn't let go of."

Derek tugged Stiles a little bit closer and kissed him gently. He didn't have to say anything to show he understood.

The other wolves of course heard Stiles and the humans seemed to get from their faces that this was important so no one said anything else as Scott started the movie.

When it finished, someone turned on "A Christmas Story" and Stiles fell asleep just before the lamp got broken.

* * *

The next morning, Christmas morning, thought Stiles with a grin, he quickly noticed that none of the other pack members had crashed in his room that night. He didn't completely remember Derek carrying him upstairs either but he was definitely remembering how much he liked waking up to him.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered when Derek's eyes flickered open.

"Hi," breathed Derek. He tilted his head forward and kissed Stiles. "There's no one else in the bed today."

"No there's not," grinned Stiles.

"So we could…?"

"Oh we very much could."

Derek growled, one of the ones that made Stiles melt, and pressed his lips to Stiles' neck before slowly working his way down Stiles' torso.

"Best Christmas ever," said Stiles.

* * *

Eventually they both showered, which took admittedly longer than planned, for which Stiles took full blame and headed downstairs.

Melissa had made several pans of her world famous coffee cake and it looked like an extra couple coffee pots had been brought over to handle the excess guests.

So far only Melissa, John, and Allison were up, though Chris Argent had arrived at some point. Poor Chris looked incredibly uncomfortable but like he was trying to get through this for Allison. Derek nodded at him but didn't growl and moved away from Stiles to pour a cup of coffee. Chris seemed to relax a little at realizing Derek knew he'd be there.

"Morning everyone," said Stiles. "How did you sleep?" He sat down at the table and stabbed a fork into the coffee cake.

"Stiles," began the Sheriff, pointedly handing his son a plate.

"Yeah dad?" Stiles scooped up a slice and made a show of placing it on the plate and setting his plate in front of him.

"While I'm very happy that you and Derek have made up, in the future I would prefer not to be woken up on Christmas morning by you shouting his name through the entire house."

Stiles learned for the first time that it was possible to turn redder than a tomato.

Derek chose to take an extra long time making coffee for himself and Stiles before sitting back down. Melissa, Chris, and Allison just laughed.

Jackson walked in then, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and gratefully headed towards the coffee. "Stiles, we really need to talk about how loud you are. Like seriously, I don't ever need to hear that again."

Stiles dropped his head on the table and moaned. "This is a nightmare."

"I think it's called family, kiddo," said Melissa, poking at him.

Stiles kind of liked that idea. He wasn't about to admit it though. "Well some family members are annoying," he snipped at Jackson.

Jackson just took a seat by Allison and grinned at him.

Unfortunately for Stiles, he still had several more people to wait for, all of whom were happy to inform him of just how enthusiastic he was. Danny at least added a 'good for you' to the mix. The worst part had to be Derek, who instead of getting pissed off at everyone, had apparently decided it was more fun to see Stiles' reaction.

Traitor.

Finally, with a parting shot from Boyd of all people about whether Derek used his claws to get a particular yelp out of Stiles, the group seemed to agree that presents were better than continuing to torture Stiles.

There were a lot of simple presents, since it wasn't like anyone but Derek or Chris Argent was made of money. It didn't negate the value of the gift.

Some gifts were easy to figure out, like Stiles' Catwoman shirt to Erica or her Batman shirt to him.

Lydia gave him a tiny vial with a piece of paper inside. He opened it, gasped and looked at her with a serious question in his eyes. She nodded and he tucked the gift away.

He gave the humans in his life wolfsbane spray that could go on keychains.

Melissa McCall seemed to win favorite pack gift when she presented them with a homemade quilt for puppy piles.

Chris was shocked at first when Derek handed him a small package and utterly speechless when he saw that it was a translated copy of the bestiary. They hadn't included anything pertinent to werewolves but as for the other creatures, Lydia's skill with archaic Latin and Stiles' research abilities had given clear and concise information about every single one in the bestiary.

Stiles and Derek both saved each other's gifts for later when the others weren't around.

The majority of the day passed without event, and it kind of made Stiles hope that someday soon, every day could be like this. That maybe they'd pushed past most of the bad shit and we're getting to experience life as an actual pack.

He gave a contented sigh late in the afternoon as he watched Isaac and Erica fall asleep in front of the fire. Lydia and Peter were talking in the kitchen, while the rest of the wolves and Allison played outside. The Sheriff, Melissa, and Chris were fixing dinner in the kitchen and all was right with Stiles' world.

"You sound happy," said Derek from where he was resting against Stiles' shoulder.

"I am happy. The pack is together and you're here. It's been a good day."

"Can I give you your Christmas present, now?" asked Derek.

Stiles nodded. He reached over to the table where they both had set aside boxes and handed Derek's gift to him. "Yours is…I just wanted it to be something that mattered." Stiles didn't exactly know how to explain his gift.

They both kind of twisted on the couch to face each other. Stiles opened his first. Inside was a small book bound in leather. He opened it to see all the stories his mom had ever told him. She used to scribble the stories down on pieces of paper and he kept them in a leather journal. Derek had copied each one and put them together into a single book.

"It's perfect," choked out Stiles. "Derek, it's completely and totally perfect." He held the book almost reverently.

Derek pulled the wrapping off his and just stared for a long time, tears filling his eyes. Stiles had found an old picture in a box in the attic. It had looked like a Christmas photo, the kind sent out to family & friends during the holidays and it had all of the Hale family in it.

Stiles had touched it up and enlarged before putting it in a frame.

"I'm sorry if it's too much," he said quietly, taking Derek's hand in his.

Derek looked up and shook his head. "It's everything." He turned and moved around until he was sitting across Stiles' lap, head curled into Stiles' neck. "I love you."

Stiles kissed Derek's forehead and set their gifts aside. "I love you too," he said softly.

* * *

A week after Christmas, they were back to a regular schedule of studying, training, and trying to pretend there wasn't one more semester of high school to get through.

The first few days had been basic exercises, getting everyone back in shape and then Derek had moved them back into hunter vs prey scenarios.

Today's had been particularly brutal, with it raining off and on and Stiles getting frustrated.

Actually, to say Stiles was frustrated had been an understatement. He'd only managed to get the jump on Jackson & Danny once, despite drenching himself in wolfsbane that morning. He would need about 3 showers just to get Derek to kiss him and he didn't even have the victories to show for it. What made him more upset was that technically he did have the element of surprise. The wolves hadn't been able to scent him, they were just too fast for him to shoot with his limited talent.

Two weeks into the new year and Stiles was already annoyed with the year. He'd wanted to prove he was better and somehow he felt like he was back to the useless human. Okay not useless but it still hurt his pride.

So when Derek called the day over and the rest of the pack headed in, Stiles stayed in his tree perch for awhile. He knew pouting was pointless and he'd still have to deal with Jackson's taunting when he got back but a little bit of sulking felt good.

Finally, Stiles figured it had been long enough. Plus he was hungry and it wasn't exactly a short walk back to the house. He was almost to the Hale territory line with the position he'd chosen, meaning at this particular angle he had about a 3 mile walk ahead of him.

He'd gone maybe half a mile when he heard a noise.

"Jackson?" queried Stiles to the open air. He wouldn't put it past the wolf to come back to taunt him again.

No answer.

"Jackson?" he yelled again. "Boyd? Look, I give up alright, you got the jump, I'm coming back."

"That was far easier than we expected," said a voice from the trees. Amber eyes leered at him as a man walked out from behind a tree to Stiles' right. "If you roll over that easy we might not need to go to such lengths to insure a separation. Hello Stiles."

Stiles stamped down his fear. Thank goodness for the wolfsbane, he knew the wolf couldn't sense his emotion. "You know my name but I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure."

The werewolf grinned. It was highly unpleasant. "Adrian."

"Adrian, huh. Well as villainous names go it's not awful," said Stiles, trying to keep talking and figure out what this guy wanted. "I assume you know this is Hale territory. Why are you here?"

Adrian leaned closer to Stiles and he resisted the urge to back away. "My pack is looking to expand and acquire new territory. We need a base to start from and this particular territory was most desirable."

"We're not looking to sell."

"We weren't planning to pay."

"You should be telling Derek Hale this," said Stiles firmly. "He's the Alpha."

"Indeed," sniffed Adrian. "And you are his mate which means you can give him a message."

"I'm not saying a single word for you," snapped Stiles. "You can give your own message."

Adrian took a step back from Stiles but he didn't seem concerned in any way. That was enough to tell Stiles that he was still in danger but there was no way to run fast enough. So he stared back at the rival werewolf.

"You misunderstand me, Stiles," said Adrian with that annoying villain voice again. "I never said you had to use words to deliver the message."

Before Stiles could dodge, Adrian had reached out and slashed his claws across Stiles' chest. Stiles crumpled to the ground. Adrian's claws weren't light cuts, he'd slashed lethally. "I feel safe in believing the message will make it through," he said, walking away from Stiles.

Stiles lay on the ground in agony. He could sense his blood flowing away and he kept trying to put his hands over the cuts but they were too long and too deep for him to have any hope of stopping the blood.

For a moment he told himself it would be okay, his pack would find him and then he remembered the wolfsbane and that no one was likely to find him in time.

This wasn't really how he thought it would end. He'd never really expected to die of old age. Not when his life was being threatened every other day.

But somehow he'd still pictured his dad and Scott and Derek being there in those last minutes.

He'd always thought he'd get the chance to say goodbye.

Stiles called Derek's name with his last bit of energy before everything went black.


	10. Chapter 10

**My sincerest apologies for this taking so long. I actually had most of this written up already and just needed to type it up and publish but I spent the last week in the hospital. Definitely made me wish I had werewolf healing! As a further apology, the next chapter goes up tomorrow instead of waiting a few days.**

* * *

Meanwhile, the pack had been relaxing at the house. There was a bit of a puppy pile going on in the yard and Derek was inside talking to Peter.

Derek walked aside and glanced over the pack before noticing that Stiles wasn't there. "Scott!"

Scott poked his head out from under Allison's arm. "Yeah?"

"Where's Stiles?"

Jackson groaned.

"What?"

"He's probably still out in the woods sulking," said Jackson. "Stiles was not happy that we kept getting the better of him today."

Derek sighed. "That's ridiculous. One of you go get him." He wasn't worried. Stiles didn't make a habit of this but he'd been able to sense that Stiles was frustrated when they took a break earlier.

"Any ideas how we're supposed to find him?" asked Boyd.

Derek frowned at them. "What?"

Allison pushed her way past Erica and Scott and emerged from the pile. "He's covered in wolfsbane, y'all wouldn't be able to scent him out. I'll go find him."

"How will you find him?" asked Scott.

Allison refrained from hitting him. "Because I'm trained to pay attention to more than smells, sweetie. And because I'll just tell Stiles I thought of a trick to insure maximum damage to Jackson's personage on the next training day."

"Thanks Allison." Derek waved her off and she started jogging through the woods. Allison had lied about tracking Stiles. She just knew his favorite sniper perch and headed straight for it.

When she arrived, she could tell instantly that Stiles wasn't there. Allison felt a sliver of worry rise up at the missing Stiles. She tried to shake it off as just missing him on the walk back but she couldn't shake the feeling.

Still, Allison made a small circle before heading back down the trail she could see Stiles took. "Stiles!" She yelled as she walked. "Stiles, c'mon just answer me! I've got ideas on how to get Jackson back!"

Allison was getting more worried. "Seriously Stiles just answer me!"

Then she heard a call of "Derek", and it came from a voice that was a few hundred yards ahead and scarily weak.

Allison ran, heart pounding to see Stiles on the ground, his chest ripped open and his eyes closing as he started to fade.

"Omigod, omigod, omigod," shrieked Allison, running over and flinging herself down next to Stiles. "What happened?!"

She realized he wasn't conscious. "Stiles, talk to me! Stiles!"

When there was no response, Allison took only a few seconds to realize that his wounds were too severe for her to try and fix out here. The only chance she had was getting Stiles to the house as fast as possible and she was still a good mile too far away for any of the wolves to hear her.

The idea that Stiles might be too heavy or the distance too far never registered to the girl. This was the boy who was best friends with the guy she loved. He was one of her closest friends. He was Derek's mate. Allison just slipped her arms under Stiles, lifted him up and ran.

There was a small part of her brain that registered how useful it was that Derek had insisted they run with 50 pound backpacks. But the majority of Allison didn't think about anything but getting Stiles to help.

When she was close enough that the pack should be able to hear her loud and clear, she started screaming as she ran.

"DEREK!"

Allison nearly tripped but kept running. "DEREK!"

On the steps of the porch, Derek's head jolted up at the sound of Allison's voice. The rest of the pack heard the second scream and everyone went pale.

Allison's screams were terrified.

Derek was running towards the scream, reaching Allison in the time it took Scott and Isaac to get clear of the other pack members and follow him.

He skidded to a halt in front of Allison and practically yanked Stiles out of her arms. She gave him up willingly and gasped for breath.

"I don't know what happened, Derek. He was unconscious when I found him." Allison saw Derek fighting the shift to full on Alpha. "Derek, stop."

He looked at Allison, fear & pain evident.

"I know, Derek. I know. Get him to the house." Allison urged him forward and Derek ran.

Lydia was full on panicking with the rest of the pack when she felt a hand on her back. Peter stood there, trying to offer a little comfort. They were still tiptoeing their way through whatever was going on with them but they'd figured out that physical contact seemed to calm the other down. Which in itself was weird if they thought about it too much. Lydia could feel herself growing calmer but she was still confused. "Peter if Stiles is…"

"They need you, Lydia," he said softly. "The wolves are too agitated with their connection to Derek and the mate connection to Stiles. You have to do what Stiles can't. Take charge. Be the Alpha's second."

"I can't," protested Lydia.

"You are one of the smartest, most resourceful people I have ever met and you love that boy. Yes you can."

The second Derek became visible at the tree line, what Peter was saying seemed to click into place and Lydia snapped out of her fear and back into bamf mode. At least Derek had a pack of humans who responded well in a crisis. She turned to Scott. "Scott! Go get your mom. Tell her to bring suture equipment, IVs, and anything else she will need to repair severe wounds. Make it fast."

Scott turned and ran, not questioning the order.

Lydia looked to Isaac and Erica next. "Isaac, I need you to breathe. Focus on my heartbeat. Just mine." She waited a few seconds until she could see the werewolf calming down. Derek was halfway across the clearing. "You have to get Stiles' dad. Bring him here and don't overwhelm him."

"I could help though," pleaded Isaac.

Lydia's eyes softened. "Sweetie, you would try to take the pain away and from the way Allison screamed, doing that would take too much out of you. It would kill you Isaac, and Stiles would never forgive himself."

She could tell Isaac hated it but knew she was right.

"Erica," continued Lydia.

The blonde's head snapped up, desperate to have a purpose.

"In Stiles' closet, under the floorboards is a gray box with a wolfsbane flower carved into it. I need that. Wrap it in a shirt before you carry it so it doesn't burn too badly."

Erica and Isaac immediately ran towards the Stilinski house. The entire instruction process was finished in the few minutes it took Derek to reach the house. Lydia pointed him towards the guest bedroom that injured pack members had used before.

Derek placed Stiles gently on the bed but didn't let go of his hand. Peter moved quickly, understanding what Lydia wanted and used cloths to press against Stiles' wounds, staving off the blood flow.

Danny shook off his panic first and joined Peter. As soon as Lydia realized that Boyd, Allison, and Jackson weren't going to be calm anytime soon, she sent them to guard the perimeter and instructed Allison to give her dad a head's up about a rogue werewolf. It was the best she could think of.

Lydia shuddered once they'd left and took a deep breath, mentally reassessing the situation.

"You did well," said Peter from his spot by Derek.

"So far," she answered.

And then everything started moving quickly again. Scott arrived first and Melissa McCall went straight to work bossing everyone around, getting an IV in Stiles and stitching the claw wounds back together.

John came running through the door, face streaked with tears and Danny pulled him into a corner and told him everything they knew and everything they were still in the dark about.

When Erica returned, hands bleeding and raw from carrying the box, even wrapped in a winter coat, Lydia mentally noted that the rune had worked and then sent Isaac to help Erica heal faster.

Lydia then waited until Melissa was finished, a process that took several hours.

Melissa sighed. "The stitches should hold. Should. But even then, it will be weeks before Stiles will be able to even sit up, let alone get around." She wiped sweat from her forehead with a spare towel. "What the hell happened?"

"We have no idea," answered Peter. "It was a typical training day and then Allison went to get Stiles, who we thought was dawdling out of frustration and she came running back with Stiles looking like this."

Derek was still staring at Stiles, the teen's hand clasped in his and his face was ashen.

Lydia took her cue. "My turn." She came around to the side of Stiles, careful to still allow John and Derek their places next to him. Lydia opened the box and the smell of monkshood was powerful enough to send both Peter and Scott reeling backwards.

"What is that?" asked Scott.

Lydia ignored him and used her fingers to scoop salve out of the small container. She reservedly spread it on each line of stitches before taking a few steps back.

The results were nearly instantaneous. As the others watched, Stiles' wounds began to knit themselves together. It took about five minutes to fully work and the stitches came loose as Stiles' skin healed and rejected them. He was left with only scars, and not horrible ones at that, as reminders of his wounds.

The others gaped. "What is that?" asked Scott again.

"A very dangerous secret," replied Lydia.

"Lydia," Derek growled, demanding more of an explanation but keeping his eyes on Stiles, who seemed to be breathing easier.

"Stiles and I started working on it just after Thanksgiving," she answered. "Those scars will remain and he'll be weak for about a week but otherwise Stiles will be fine."

"How?" demanded Derek.

"Research, visits to a belanus outside of Portland, and a lot of experiments you wouldn't approve of," answered Lydia.

"What would possess the two of you to do something like that?" asked Peter. He didn't need to ask what kind of experiments the two conducted for Lydia to be so sure this would work.

Lydia's eyes sparked. "Preparing for a situation just like this. Training is all well and good but we're still human. Stiles and I aren't willing to risk getting sidelines or worse because we don't have werewolf healing. And we wanted an option beyond the bite."

"What's in the salve?" asked Melissa.

"I'm sorry but I can't answer that," said Lydia, though she said it with the utmost respect as the apology was directed at Derek too. We swore an oath to keep it secret. And to be honest the knowledge is far too dangerous for too many people to have. It would be best if no one knew we had it."

After a long moment that stretched into twenty, Derek spoke up. "We still need to know who attacked Stiles and why."

"A message," croaked Stiles, eyes flickering open. He let out a hoarse laugh when both Derek and John jolted forward to hug him and John shoved Derek out of his way.

"My son," he muttered, though he let Derek have his turn within a few seconds.

"Message?" questioned Derek, finally growing more coherent and back to his Alpha self now that Stiles was awake.

Stiles made great efforts to roll his eyes. "You didn't even look at the marks did you?" He looked down at his chest to see the scars and then grinned at Lydia. "We did good."

Lydia smiled. "Sorry about the scars."

"War wounds are sexy," said Stiles, before looking slightly worried at Derek.

The Alpha kissed him gently in response.

"Derek, look at the scars," said Stiles again.

Peter and Scott leaned in as well and Stiles had never felt so proud when Scott said, "Another pack is planning to attack us."

"I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to live long enough to give you the message directly," said Stiles. "But yes. The message was given by a guy named Adrian."

Derek snarled.

"Yeah I don't really care for their methods either," said Stiles, patting Derek's hand. "Whatever happened to a nice, handwritten declaration of war?"

Peter laughed in spite of himself and he could tell John and Melissa were hiding smiles.

Stiles yawned. "I'm really tired though so maybe you could get the rest of the pack in here so they know I'm alright and we can prepare for this new problem tomorrow."

"they can wait," said Derek, still not fully over his scare.

"No they can't and you know it. Five minutes, Derek, that's all." Stiles squeezed Derek's hand, knowing the man was just barely holding his emotions at bay so they didn't overwhelm his betas.

Derek nodded at Peter and the older man stepped outside to howl for the three patrolling. He made a point to let the howl sound mournful, knowing it would unfortunately confuse the wolves. But if anyone was listening, he should be giving an indication of Stiles' death, the others would understand when they got there.

A few minutes later and the three came racing up to the house, Allison clinging to the back of Boyd so they could get there faster. Peter let them get through the door before saying quietly, "He's fine. Stiles is awake and okay and we all need to go to his room and talk."

They settled down, though Jackson still seemed more visibly shaken, and followed Peter.

It took a few minutes as the newcomers needed to gently hug Stiles as well. Boyd lingered an extra minute and it wasn't until Stiles felt himself get a burst of energy that he realized what Boyd was doing.

"Stop it! Healing me isn't the same as helping a sick puppy!"

Boyd held on to Stiles for an extra few seconds. "I'm better at this than Isaac or Scott." And considering he then stepped away without looking at all weak, it seemed the boy knew what he was talking about.

Stiles chose to appreciate the gesture and take the renewed strength. He could always lecture Boyd later. "Thank you." Once everyone had found a place to sit, which for Erica, Scott, Lydia, Jackson, and Isaac meant along the edge of the bed so they could keep touching him, he began.

"I was attacked by a werewolf who wanted to send the message that they will be attacking. They want this land."

"Because of the reasons we learned in our research?" asked Allison.

Stiles nodded. "Probably."

"What research?" asked Derek and the others immediately realized they never had actually told Derek what they learned.

Allison quickly gave a cliff notes version to catch everyone up.

"So basically," finished Jackson, "There's a lot of power in owning the main Hale territory. We assumed that's why the Alpha pack showed up but no one has since then so it seemed like the message that the Hale pack was back in Beacon Hills got out. I guess not everyone got the memo."

"I'd say they did," commented John Stilinski from the corner. "From what Stiles said, this Adrian knew who he was and who Derek is. I may be out of the loop on this werewolf business, but I'm assuming that makes them more dangerous if they're still willing to attack."

"It does," answered Derek. "But if it's the Adrian I think it is, that would explain why. He's part of a traditional pack from Victoria, British Columbia. There was a skirmish between our great-grandparents and mine won. His pack has always held a grudge."

"Adrian Lamiere?" asked Allison.

"That would be the one."

"If it's the same that attacked Stiles, that pack has a long history of grudges against the Hales as far back as the 1700s," she continued.

"Excuse me?" questioned Peter.

"Oh right, the Hale pack is one of the oldest packs in the world, forgot to mention that," inserted Stiles.

"And we can go over that little detail later," said Peter, once he recovered from his surprise. His brother really had kept a lot of secrets. "I think we can safely assume that this is the same Adrian. So, what happened in the beginning?"

"From what little we could find, the Lamiere pack is insanely bloodthirsty. Always has been. The Hale Alpha in 1728 banished them to Victoria and had spells put in place that prevented them from leaving or killing anyone for at least four generations," said Allison.

"I'm guessing they brought the killing back but didn't have the opportunity to attack the Hales very often," said Stiles.

Derek sighed. "That's going to be a problem if it really is him. But it also buys us a little time."

"Why because they like to play with their food before ripping it apart?" asked Erica. Her voice came off as sarcastic but her eyes betrayed her fear.

"More like it makes them slightly predictable. The brutal packs are also ones with deep respect and adherence to traditional werewolf customs and laws," explained Peter, easily slipping into his teacher mode. "Traditions actually allow for more ritualistic murder and naturally, these packs appreciate that."

"How does that help us?" asked Scott.

"Werewolf custom after a pack member dies is to allow two days of mourning," said Stiles, who hadn't learned how to spend time studying with Peter for nothing. "An Alpha's death is three days. An Alpha's mate gets five days. Though I think we could be in trouble if they don't know that we haven't been bonded as mates," he finished, looking at Derek.

Peter interrupted. "Trust me, that's not an issue." He didn't bother explaining that those two already acted like they'd been bonded, had since before Stiles had even planted that first kiss on Derek. One problem at a time.

"So that gives us some time to prepare for an attack," stated Allison, fully in leadership mode. Like her father had always taught her, she was trained to lead and strategize. And this was a situation where her skills were just as important, if not more so, than the wolves.

"Hopefully," answered Peter.

"Good," said Stiles. "Then tomorrow we can start figuring out a plan. For now, I think everyone could use some sleep. I know I can."

"Are you sure you're okay son?" asked John, giving his son a worried look. He and Stiles had long ago had a conversation in which he had to agree to not try and rip Stiles away from this life but it didn't take away his need as a father to protect his son. Today's events felt like he'd failed.

Stiles smiled and squeezed his dad's hand. "I'm still sore and pretty worn out, not to mention more than a little shaken up. But I will be okay." He knew better than to lie in a room full of werewolves and he had also made it a priority to be honest with his father. "A little sleep and someone bringing me donuts tomorrow morning and I'll be good as ne…"

His voice halted when Scott's head snapped up and Jackson snarled.

Something was wrong.

Derek tensed at the sound of footsteps on the porch. Granted a pack that attacked an Alpha's mate couldn't be completely predicted but even the most bloodthirsty packs usually respected death customs. The runes Deaton had placed on the house as it was built insured that no outsider could hear or smell anyone inside, so they couldn't have been listening to Stiles heal.

The others sat on edge too, listening to a heartbeat on the steps. It was human but that didn't mean much.

Before anyone could react too much, Melissa had opened the front door and the sound of two people came down the hall.

He heard Allison's audible gasp and turned to look, keeping one hand on Stiles.

Chris Argent stood in the doorway, crossbow loaded, with a devilish grin on his lips. "Got word that a werewolf attacked an innocent and that he's got a pretty big pack on the way. I thought I'd offer my help."

Derek gaped as Argent's grin turned the tiniest bit sadistic.

"After all," continued Argent, "It's been way too fucking long since I've been allowed to put down a rabid dog."


	11. Chapter 11

**So couple things. First, my plan was to wait to put this up until I had the battle written out but this story has been giving me writer's block so have some feels and a little sex. **

**Second, the writer's block bit kind of helps explain why it took so long to update this fic. This was the first Teen Wolf fic I started working on and I have a very specific story I'm trying to tell in it. But as you can probably tell by my other fics, I get easily distracted with new ideas. I've been finding that if I try working on this story while another idea is floating in my brain, I end up mixing up character details and plot stuff. So anyway, please know that I am very much committed to this story, it's just a slower updating process so that I stay true to what I started.**

* * *

The next morning brought Stiles his promised donuts and the comfiest bed ever made up on the floor.

Melissa had been a little confused and tried to insist that Stiles should be on the couch but Stiles just ate his donut and told her to give it a few minutes.

Derek was watching him closely but also talking heatedly to Chris and Peter about their different options.

Stiles had been up maybe half an hour when Isaac wandered in to the room.

"Morning Isaac," said Stiles.

Isaac smiled and came over and curled up against Stiles' side. "Morning. You feeling better?"

Stiles nodded and then shifted a little when he saw Erica walk in to make sure there was room for her too.

By the time Melissa came back in with a fresh round of food and coffee for everyone, Scott and Allison were leaning against Stiles' back, propping him up and Jackson was sprawled across his feet.

She smiled at them. "Puppy piles."

"Puppy piles," agreed Stiles. "It helps after one of us gets sick or injured to have everyone else around."

Once the rest of the pack wandered in, the strategizing started. Derek's strict training proved to be an asset as they were all aware of their strengths and weaknesses and more than prepared to take on another pack.

They were still careful to be thorough, especially with the danger of this particular pack.

The humans would stay up in trees, taking sniper perches and being certain to bathe in wolfsbane to keep them as safe as possible. The wolves would split up, Danny and Jackson with Scott, Isaac, Erica & Boyd in a group, and finally Derek and Peter paired together.

They were ordered to attack as one, not splitting up as much as they could help it. That way enemy wolves would be dispatched faster and with less injury to the pack.

Chris Argent and his men would hold further back, closer to the town as a safeguard in case any of the rival pack made it out of the woods.

The biggest problem came when John turned to Chris and asked him if he could supply him with long range wolfsbane bullets.

"I can arrange that," answered Chris.

"No, you can't," snapped Stiles. "He's not fighting."

"The hell I'm not. That bastard tried to kill you, Stiles. I'm not ignoring that."

"I'm not asking you to ignore it. But this isn't a fight you know how to handle. You're staying with Melissa at the house where you'll be safe."

John glared at his son. "No."

"Yes."

"No. Stiles, I know how to fight in a war. I was in the military," he reminded his son.

"Marines?" asked Chris, taking a guess from what he knew of the Sheriff.

"Special forces," answered John. "Lead sniper with a Green Beret squadron. And I will not sit at the house."

"Okay, I didn't know that about you, Dad, and gee keeping secrets much?" admitted Stiles. "But this is still different. You shoot an enemy at war and they stay down. Werewolves don't."

Before they could start arguing more, Peter jumped in. "Can I offer a suggestion?"

Stiles glared at him.

"If you're not careful, your face will freeze like that," said Peter, smirking at Stiles. "Anyway, perhaps John could be a part of Argent's team. Still involved and close enough to lend a hand if needed, but with enough time to react to any attacking wolves."

John started to disagree but Stiles spoke first. "I can agree to that."

John looked at his son, whose eyes were pleading with him and agreed as well.

A schedule was made to keep watch for the other pack and then Derek kicked the other pack members out of his way to pull Stiles close to him on the makeshift bed.

It had been a solid four hours of planning, causing Stiles to lean in gratefully, needing the rest.

Everyone slowly scattered, and Lydia motioned for Peter to follow her into the kitchen.

Lydia spoke in hushed tones so that only Derek would be able to hear them and he was focused on Stiles anyway.

"I think I know what's going on with us," began Lydia.

Peter lifted an eyebrow.

"Fine. I've known for a while, I'm just dealing with it now," corrected Lydia. "Your younger self somehow triggered the mate bond when you used me to come back from the dead."

Peter was quiet. He had figured out the same thing but waited for Lydia to broach the subject. "I've been aware of the same thing," he said finally.

"So what do we do about it?"

"I'll let you decide," said Peter and Lydia gave him a look full of disbelief. "I mean it, Lydia. Clearly my actions triggered this and when I first came back, I might have thought nothing of making the decisions and trying to force you to go along with it. But even without the bond, I've grown to respect you. So I'll abide by your wishes."

Lydia looked at directly at Peter now. She was still human of course but being around werewolves had taught her to look for certain tells. "You would do that? Even if I chose to break the bond? That's nearly impossible for a werewolf to bear."

"Then I'll figure out how to deal with it," assured Peter firmly.

It was Lydia's turn to be quiet. Then she reached out and took Peter's hand in hers. "I don't want to break it."

Peter gave her a stunned look.

Lydia squeezed gently. "Peter, I don't have any romantic feelings towards you. And in the spirit of full disclosure, I can't imagine that I ever will. But it's not just the bond that makes me trust you. So I guess…I guess we just let life happen and stop making ourselves miserable."

Peter took a deep breath. "Okay."

Stiles woke up to Derek running his fingers through Stiles' hair. "Hi," whispered Stiles.

"Sleep okay?" asked Derek.

"Yeah. How long was I out?"

"Just a couple hours." Derek started to move, giving Stiles room to stretch the way he usually did when he first woke up.

Stiles just snuggled in closer to Derek and wrapped an arm and leg over the werewolf. "Stay," he murmured into Derek's neck.

Derek returned to petting Stiles, letting his fingers linger occasionally to take away any excess pain.

"Did you sleep at all?" asked Stiles.

"No. I'm still scared you won't be here when I wake up."

"You can't get rid of me that easily," joked Stiles. He twisted his head up to look Derek in the eyes. "I mean it, Derek. I'm here as long as you want me."

"I was thinking after graduation," started Derek.

"That's when you won't want me anymore!" shrieked Stiles.

Derek kissed him, cutting off his yelp. "No idiot. I was thinking we could make the mate bond official then."

"Oh," breathed Stiles. "Yeah, that sounds good. Do we have to get Deaton to do it since he's sort of witchy? Or is it like stone table magic and doesn't matter who officiates?"

"Stone table magic?" questioned Derek.

Stiles nodded. "You know, like in Narnia when Aslan dies but comes back because he's like there's old magic and it's more important than silly spells."

Derek sort of stared at Stiles for a second. "Yes dear. It's exactly like that. Deaton has to kill me on a rock and then Scott will use his puppy dog teeth to chew through the ropes so I can come back to life and save the stone people."

"Wolf's got humor."

Derek grinned.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, I don't know much more than you," answered Derek. "I know that the true mates in my family's pack went through the ceremony. The Latin is supposed to invoke a more ancient binding. It's not just us to each other, but to the pack and nature as well. My grandmother used to say that the binding ceremony is what marriage used to be, back when people fought for forever and not just for passion. It signifies a commitment to better yourself for the joy of another, what true love should always be."

Stiles' eyes glistened. "That's really beautiful."

Derek blushed a little bit. He was kind of a romantic at heart. Really really deep at heart.

"But passion's still important, right?" asked Stiles, a twinkle in his eye.

"I suppose…" began Derek.

Stiles laughed. "We should practice that part right now. Just to be sure we don't have to worry about it."

"You're still healing," protested Derek weakly.

"That's true. Hey, since your hands on me do such great healing, let's see what kind of healing can happen if you put your dick in me," suggested Stiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

Derek gave him a dirty look. "Did you seriously just suggest that?"

"Sexual healing? Yup, sure did."

Derek kissed him before Stiles could keep going down that road. "You're ridiculous."

Stiles grinned against Derek's lips. "Ridiculous and hard. C'mon, Derek, it's been like four days since we've had any type of sex and I refuse to be one of those statistics about couples who have lost the magic."

"You know you're still too weak." Derek kind of hated that it was true but there was no way around it.

"There are another things we can do," said Stiles, leering at Derek.

"Like what?" asked Derek, letting his claws slip out and run along Stiles' ribs.

Stiles shivered with anticipation. "You're the Alpha, you think of someth…mmph!" He jerked his hips upward as Derek slid down and mouthed at his cock, which was definitely hard in his sweatpants.

Derek looked up at Stiles, eyes full of mischief. "This work?"

The teen answered by wriggling out of his pants as fast as he could. Which wasn't nearly as fast as he wanted thanks to his injuries. Derek put his hands on Stiles' hips, holding him steady.

"Let me," he said, tugging the fabric away. Derek spent the next several minutes licking, sucking, and stroking Stiles until with a muffled cry into his arm, Stiles came hard.

He pulled Derek up to him and kissed him hard, then summoned up all his energy and stroked Derek until the werewolf was breathing hard and slumping against Stiles.

Stiles sighed happily and let his head fall back against the pillow. They both were quiet for a few minutes, breathing each other in, until Derek finally got up to get a washcloth and make themselves presentable.

Normally they wouldn't have bothered but seeing as John was sleeping on the couch until Stiles was better, he figured maybe falling asleep with Derek's come on his chest was pushing it. Still, Stiles couldn't resist letting a contented smile dance across his lips.

Chris Argent popped the top off a beer and handed it to John Stilinski before grabbing one for himself. The two men leaned against opposite sides of the porch steps, trying to relax a little bit after the long and trying day.

John took a long pull from the bottle. "You feel like saying what's on your mind, Chris?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"You have that worried parent look. As it spends a fair amount of time staring at me in the mirror, I've gotten pretty good at recognizing it in others."

Chris hesitated. "Please don't take this in too wrong of a way, but how are you okay with this?"

John's gaze stayed steady. "Okay with the supernatural or okay with my eighteen year old son dating a 25 year old werewolf? Because I wasn't aware I had a choice with the first one."

"And the second?"

"There's really not a choice there either," shrugged John. He took another drink and seemed to realize that Chris wasn't asking out of disgust. "You want a genuine answer?"

Chris nodded. "My daughter tolerates me. I'd like to have her back in my life but I don't know how to accept Scott. I guess part of me figures if the Sheriff can handle his son's relationship, maybe I can get some advice."

John took a deep breath. "I can't speak to Scott & Allison. But here's what I can tell you. A couple years ago, my son started lying to me. Stiles was always trying to sneak into crime scenes or find out more than he should but his questions were always open and random and usually nothing to do with the case itself. Then Derek Hale came into town and suddenly my son wasn't just a curious cat. He was at every crime scene and asking questions he shouldn't have known to ask. Of course, without knowing about the supernatural side of things, all I could figure out was that more was going on and for some reason, he didn't think he could tell me about it."

He reached over and grabbed a fresh beer, drinking half of it before continuing. "It wasn't even the lies that really got to me though. It was the fear in my son's eyes. Every day I could tell that he was terrified, of things I didn't know about and he wouldn't tell me about, and I couldn't take it away. Then came the night of the lacrosse game when Stiles disappeared. He told me the other team knocked him around a little bit."

Chris started to say something, though he wasn't really sure what. John silenced him with a single look.

"I know now that it was your father who left my son bruised and broken. But that night when I went to work, and for the next several nights…" His voice choked up a bit. "Chris, I was so sure that I was going to come home and find my son dead on his bedroom floor. And in brutal honesty, I didn't think it would be at someone else's hand."

"My father…Gerard hurt a lot of people in those months. I'm sorry he nearly broke Stiles as well," said Chris, knowing it wasn't enough.

"Your father? No, your family broke my son," snapped John Stilinski. "Because while my son got pulled into this when Derek showed up and Peter Hale bit Scott, Derek wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for Laura. Laura wouldn't have been dead if Peter had been sane. Peter would have been sane, and not an Alpha, if your sister hadn't burnt him and his family alive. So I don't blame one session where a piece of shit tortured my son. I blame your family for not recognizing that the worst monsters in this world were the people staring back in the mirror."

Upstairs, Stiles' mouth was open wide and even Derek looked shocked as they listened to the conversation. Stiles had talked quite a bit with his dad so he knew his dad approved of his relationship and that fact had been made clear to Derek. But he didn't know just how much his father had put together about how involved the Argents were in this mess.

John continued. "And for months you haven't understood the matter, Chris. You fight your daughter at every turn, you attack teenage kids whose lives have actually gotten better, you threatened my son, and for all your talk of the code, you let evil men and women carry out personal vendettas under your watch." His eyes are like steel. "Do you remember about eight months ago when I broke my leg? Peter Hale did that."

Stiles lunged off the bed, determined to go beat the shit out of Peter. Derek pulled him back down.

"Wait," he whispered.

Stiles glared at him.

"I think there's more to the story," said Derek softly.

Stiles sat still and continued listening.

"Peter broke my leg because I wouldn't listen to him telling me that burying you in pieces across the county wouldn't solve anything. Think about that for a moment, Argent. The man whose life your family utterly destroyed, over and over again, stood at your defense. And I know for a fact that Peter did it out of love for his nephew and his pack, though he might never admit to it. I also know he did it out of concern for Stiles, knowing that Stiles would hate it if I crossed that line."

Derek squeezed Stiles' hand and Stiles made a mental note to appreciate Peter more.

Downstairs, John was finishing his rant. "I spent four days terrified I would lose my son and not know why. And then Derek Hale started sneaking in his window and sleeping next to him. Not that he is anywhere as stealthy as he thinks he is. I looked in Stiles' room that morning, fearing the worst and for the first time in as long as I could remember, my son was sleeping peacefully. With Derek Hale wrapped around him. I figured I could comment on that issue later, but for now, the two of them could sleep. But as time went on, Stiles started smiling again. He laughed and he talked and he told me the truth and he stopped lying about everything. I didn't have to be scared to lose my son anymore, because Derek Hale gave him back to me."

John stayed quiet for a few minutes, thinking. "It's not just that Derek brought Stiles back from this supernatural darkness either. Stiles lights up now the way he did before his mother died. I looked at her like he looks at Derek. I'd give up anything but him to have her back. To take that away from my son or to belittle it or fight it? It's not just a futile effort, its cruelty in its basest form."

"I don't know if I can just get past my daughter loving a werewolf," said Chris softly. "I've been taught my whole life to look at them from one perspective. I'm learning to change but that part's asking a lot. Scott's still an animal. He still has desires to kill, and I know the wolf doesn't always distinguish friend or foe."

"I don't think you know as much as you think you do," answered John. "But you talk a lot about Scott and the werewolf. Have you ever considered you should stop trying to understand this relationship through the one you don't know, and start looking at it from Allison's perspective?"

"You make a good point," said Chris. His body slumped a little in defeat. "This won't be easy."

"No, it won't. But believe me, it is worth it. Even on days like this, when I have to fear the worst, knowing my son wants me to be in his life is still enough. I can't imagine choosing to be the reason we were apart."

Stiles didn't even care that it would be obvious he was listening (this is a werewolf house after all, people should just assume), or that he's still supposed to be recovering, or is 18 years old and halfway living with his werewolf mate. He flew down the hallway and out the door to his dad. John caught Stiles as he half fell onto him.

"Stiles?" He asked worriedly.

"I love you," said Stiles, hugging John tightly. "So, so much."

John sighed, realizing Stiles had been listening. "I love you too, son." He hugged him back, rocking Stiles back and forth as though his son was still just his little boy.

Stiles snuggled tighter up against his dad, holding on and insanely grateful for everything his dad had just said.

Chris slipped away a moment later to go talk to his own daughter.

John stayed on the porch, singing old lullabies to Stiles until his son drifted off to sleep and wishing he could figure out a way to keep him safe forever.

The next day at breakfast, with Stiles deemed healed enough to walk around as long as he took it easy, Stiles took Peter by surprise when he walked up and gave the older man a firm hug.

"Thank you," said Stiles softly.


	12. Chapter 12

**Oh wow this story. So here's the thing. This was the first fic idea I had when I started watching Teen Wolf last summer and as you can probably tell by my profile, I've had a lot of other ideas since then. The thing is, certain aspects of this story (most of which come into play in the 2****nd**** part) are ones I haven't let go of. I think I probably would have been better off starting with that part & working all of this stuff into flashbacks.**

**Hindsight is 20/20 & and all that. Anyway, lately my goal has been to finish WIPs and commission fic. This is the next WIP on the plate. I say this to explain that this particular chapter is far from perfect. And short. And as Willow would say, this part's mostly filler. Basically my interest is in further along in the story but jumping ahead just isn't feasible. So I'm doing a montage of scenes of sorts in this chapter, to move over the information quickly instead of dragging on. I've done my best to keep everything clear, but if you have questions feel free to leave them in the comments so I can fill in any missing bits.**

* * *

Stiles limped a little as he walked back to the house with Derek—not from an injury, just exhaustion from fighting all day. There were injuries on their side but no death and for that Stiles was grateful. The problem however…

"Did that seem too easy?" he asked Derek.

"Not easy, exactly," said Derek, though he looked as troubled as Stiles felt.

"It felt like the first wave," said John from behind them.

Derek and Stiles stopped walking and turned back to look at them.

"You said Adrian wasn't there, right?"

Stiles nodded and processed. "Shit. You think that was a test run, gauge our fighting styles, so the real pack can come back later with an advantage."

John pursed his lips but didn't disagree. "Unfortunately, yes. If the history of the Lamiere pack is true, we should have been impacted more."

"No one dying isn't a bad thing," noted Derek.

"No it's not, and I'm not saying that anyone should have died. But the worst injury sustained was Boyd having a good chunk of flesh ripped out of his leg. That seems unrealistic." John started moving forward again, out of the woods, and after a moment Stiles and Derek followed.

The debriefing at the house followed much the same protocol. The general agreement was too easy and that a greater threat definitely loomed on the horizon. But in the end, there wasn't much that could be done about it. And graduation was in two weeks. Despite the pack's extracurricular activities, school still mattered, and it needed to take precedence.

"You'll look out for him," said the Sheriff quietly, clear that this was not a request.

"As much as I can," answered Derek.

"He listens to you. I know my son protects the people he loves and he'll throw himself into battle without a second thought but he forgets that he's human." John is grim and determined. "When this battle comes, I expect you to protect him just as much as I will."

Derek's voice was like steel, unwavering in its commitment. "I swear I will. I'll die before I see anything happen to Stiles."

Graduation is simultaneously everything Stiles hoped it would be and at the same time a complete non-event.

He laughed with everyone at the "we made it" jokes and signed yearbooks with corny jokes and flourishes. At some point during the pictures and hugs and congratulations following the ceremony, Stiles, Scott, Jackson, and Lydia snuck off with a bottle of whiskey and broke into the elementary school to reminisce about the good old days when Jackson stealing their blue crayons was the worst thing that happened.

Erica took piggy-back pictures with everyone and Stiles found an odd number of people saying they'd miss him and to keep in touch.

He didn't plan on doing so. His pack was enough for him.

John cried a little bit before they left for the ceremony and muttered little words about how his mother would have been so proud and so was he. Stiles' sleeves were still a little damp when he got out of the car and joined his friends.

Melissa cried a lot over both Scott and Stiles, declaring it unfair that they grew up before she was ready.

Stiles offered to sneak into the house and eat all her food for old times' sake, to which she ruffled his hair and told him that was quite alright.

The pack and all their families went out for celebratory Italian food after the ceremony and pictures were finished, nearly filling the entire restaurant. Though all weren't aware of werewolves, the friendships were still important, and the parents in the know bonded with the others over empty nest feelings where appropriate and general worries about their kids' future.

Stiles ate an entire pizza on his own and did his best to steal half of Derek's. Derek's focus stayed primarily on Stiles, but he still spent a fair amount of time beaming at the rest of his pack, ridiculously proud that they'd all made it this far.

He may not have had an experience like this, but he was glad to see the pack of Beacon Hills was finally getting some normalcy.

After an hour or so, the parents dispersed and the pack was left alone. Peter handed their servers a healthy 'keep the drinks full but don't bug us' tip, wanting to make up for the fact that they weren't leaving anytime soon.

Derek found himself at a loss for words when the pack told him about their future plans, how all were going to the local community college, or doing apprenticeships, or long-distance study because the health of the pack outweighed old personal goals.

He protested a little, but soon accepted that no one thought of this as a sacrifice, and went around hugging all of them.

No one commented when Jackson held on a little tighter than most.

Allison and Scott slipped out first, wanting to go for a drive and spend some time together.

Lydia and Peter spoke quietly together at the vacated end of the table. Stiles wasn't really sure what it was about, but they seemed to be at a good place in the odd relationship they'd been forced into.

Stiles propped his feet up in Derek's lap as they talked with his beta trio. Boyd, Isaac, and Erica would always hold the second favorite spot in Derek's heart, just behind Stiles.

He was pretty sure that at some point in the night, Jackson blew Danny in the restaurant bathroom. If nothing else, it stopped everyone from stealing Jackson's specialty drink.

All in all, Stiles considered the general endeavor of graduation to be a success.

Stiles spent the weekend after graduation at home with his dad, feeling the need for family. And as much as he loved Derek and the rest of the pack, it was times like this that he most missed his mother, and none of them could make up for that.

"Hey," said John, tapping lightly on the door. "You got a minute?"

"Yeah, sure," said Stiles, putting down the picture of his mom and pushing himself off the bed. "What's up?"

"There's a video we need to watch," John explained.

Stiles followed him downstairs and sat down on the couch. His dad took a seat next to him, not on the chair like he usually did. Stiles noticed but didn't comment on the two tumblers of whiskey that sat on the coffee table.

John turned solemnly to Stiles. "This probably isn't going to be easy for either of us, hell it's going to be hard as fuck to deal with, but your mom made a video for your graduation."

"What?!" Stiles blinked back tears. "A…a video?"

"It was while she was sick. She made me promise to hold onto it until then, but that I'd make sure we watched it together. She insisted that you would need to know these things once you became an adult and finished high school." John's voice caught and he took a moment to recover. "I had a digital copy made a couple years ago so you'll be able to have it on your phone or computer as well as the tape if you want it."

Stiles was admittedly nervous to watch, wondering if his memories of his mother would hold up all these years later, and hating the idea of seeing her wasting away when he'd almost pushed those memories away. But he would never turn down a chance to hear her again. "Okay," he whispered hoarsely.

John pressed play.

The first thing Stiles noticed was his mother's clearly healthy demeanor. She was cooking something, swaying to an unheard melody in the kitchen, and definitely not anywhere close to death.

"Dad?" asked Stiles.

"We had just found out. I didn't want to start making goodbye videos or promises or anything like that. But she said you deserved to have a good memory of her when you watched these. That she'd fight this disease with everything she had, but she wouldn't leave off commemorating her thoughts until she was dying in a hospital bed."

Stiles spent the entire video gripping his dad's hand so tightly he probably cut off the circulation. They both cried for ten minutes afterwards, drank the whiskey, and watched it again.

After the third time, John turned off the television.

"I am so incredibly proud of you, Stiles. You've grown up to be the best possible versions of your mother and myself, and you did it with so much more pressure than any kid should ever have to deal with."

Stiles unabashedly sobbed into his dad's shoulder. "I had the best examples."

John hugged Stiles tight, pulling him onto his lap as though Stiles was still five years old. "I love you more than anything. Never forget that."

"Promise," coughed out Stiles, rubbing his fists across his eyes so he could see again.

John smiled. "And you just remind Derek that I get first priority too."

Stiles managed some sort of hybrid laugh-cry, but he agreed to tell Derek he was second on the totem pole.

They watched the video once more before going to bed, both men needing the happy memory of the most important woman in either of their lives to be the one that showed up in their dreams. There would be no painful nightmares tonight.

The pack had nearly an entire summer of peace and happiness.

In early August, the howls came from the woods on the outskirts of town.

And all hell broke loose in Beacon Hills.


	13. Chapter 13

**Beginning Notes: WARNING – PLEASE READ IF YOU HAVE ANY TRIGGERS TO BE CONCERNED ABOUT.  
I have this choose not to use archive warnings for a reason. There is a death in this chapter. It is not Derek or Stiles. While the death itself is violent, I did my best not to describe it very graphically.  
Jsyk, this particular death has been planned from the beginning as a major catalyst. It is not merely a casualty of war. **

**Also part of this is distinctly Derek's perspective. **

* * *

The Lamiere pack struck fast and hard. There was no second warning, no negotiation of terms. Clearly the first warning was enough to them—if it was ever really a warning in the first place—and they felt no need for more.

The patrols that Derek and Chris had insisted on increasing since the first attack were no doubt what saved them. Allison and Boyd were out and spotted the incoming pack at the same time one of the other patrolling hunter pairs did. Warnings were sounded and the Hale pack went to work.

Those already out, as well as the werewolves of the pack, took up the job of defending the town, while their human pack members gathered weapons.

Wolfsbane infused bullets, baseball bats bonded with mountain ash, and pendants with battle runes came with the humans and hunters of Beacon Hills.

Stiles could barely take the time to focus on anything else but his own fight. The werewolves of the Lamiere pack came at him a lot, forcing him to fight harder than he ever had.

He cracked his bat across the head of one beta, sending it flying backwards to Scott, who quickly slashed deep into the werewolf's heart. Lydia sprang in, quick as a flash and sprayed a liquid wolfsbane into the cavity.

The beta screamed in agony for only a few seconds before the wolfsbane took full effect.

Stiles took the precious few seconds to look around. He noticed Jackson fighting a little slower, his leg wrenched around to a wrong angle, and not yet healing.

Several hunters were down for the count and Stiles couldn't tell how permanent the injuries were.

Lydia had several scratches on her bare shoulders but from what Stiles had been able to see, Peter kept anyone from getting too close.

He'd heard a yell earlier from Erica and knew that she had been injured saving Danny, who was now leaning against one of the SUVs, trying to heal and get back in the fight. Erica's hair was streaked with red from where she'd run bloody hands through it. But to watch her, one would never know she was injured for she fought like a woman possessed.

Still, they were holding their own and without trying to jinx them, Stiles could see that his pack was pushing towards victory.

Stiles heard movement to his left, raised his bat again, and turned to face a new attacker. He got in a decent hit but without enough force to push the new beta away.

It managed to claw down Stiles' arm, opening up the flesh and making Stiles' wince in pain. His healing rune would keep it from being too damaged but it hurt like hell.

Derek leaped at the werewolf, flinging him off Stiles.

He stopped briefly to look at Stiles, whose arm was bleeding but not profusely. "Are you okay?" he asked.

A blur passed their vision, the wolf moving again, and Stiles gave a weak grin. "Fine. Go kill that smelly mutt."

And then suddenly everything was very, very quiet. Wrong quiet. Eerie.

Derek turned away, trying to figure out what happened as Stiles sat up.

They both saw it at the same time. The wolf's claws pulled back from a throat, revealing it to be slashed into ribbons.

And as if in slow motion, John Stilinski crumpled to the ground.

* * *

Derek sat on the couch, holding Stiles in his arms, and watching his pack. They were all exhausted, some of their injuries were still trying to heal, and yet none of them were thinking of anything but Stiles.

He listened as Stiles insisted that he's sad and upset and not very okay and that he won't lie to his pack but that he just kind of wants to be left with Derek.

He listened as the others told Stiles that one wolf got away before Derek could kill him. There's a fierce pride in Scott's voice over the three wolves he killed in his rage. He doesn't say so to Stiles, that would be too painful. But the pride is still there and if Derek wasn't so concerned about Stiles, he would take the time to commend Scott.

He listened as Stiles reassured Scott and Isaac and Erica, who stayed behind the others because they love Stiles a little bit more, that he's just glad he went into a blackout rage so he can't remember how that day ended.

And finally, he listened as Stiles slowly fell asleep. As the man he loves slipped into what little rest he could get, and Derek's arms tightened just a little bit and he didn't stop gently kissing Stiles' head or rubbing his back or trying to give any sort of comfort as Stiles' slept.

Peter returned as Stiles was finally sound asleep, to the point that he probably won't wake up.

"I'm sorry, Derek," whispered Peter, shaking his head. "I couldn't find the wolf."

"It was a long shot," said Derek. He didn't blame his uncle.

"I should have found him," said Peter, failure in his tone. "I nearly took everything from that kid once and yet he still defended me last year. I owe him," he finished fiercely, though he kept his voice low.

Derek frowned. "You did your best, Peter. Those wolves tried to take our territory, they tried to kill all of us, and we beat them." His Alpha eyes glowed. "Move on. I need you focused on helping the pack heal."

Peter nodded his agreement. He wasn't going to lose it this time.

Derek told his uncle goodnight, not needing to explain that he wasn't leaving Stiles.

And when Peter headed down the hall, turning the lights out and leaving Derek in the dark, he finally let his tears silently fall.

He cried for Stiles' loss. He cried at the loss of John Stilinski, who had taken the time to care about him, even if it was just because he loved Stiles.

But mostly, he cried because he knew what his pack didn't. He knew Stiles had lied about not remembering that day. The others should have known. That's just a given. You can't lie and get away with it around werewolves. And it terrified Derek that Stiles had.

He knew why Stiles lied. They were all there. They'd watched as Stiles went into shock, staring in horror as his dad fell. The pack had attacked the remaining wolves in a frenzy, dispatching them in a matter of minutes.

When he'd turned back around, Stiles had come out of his shock and was kneeling beside his father, screaming and sobbing and begging for him to return.

They saw Stiles push everyone away who tried to comfort him.

They saw him refuse to let go of his father's body, until finally Isaac and Derek and Scott together pried him away.

They all watched as Stiles said he was fine and then calmly pulled a knife out of Allison's belt and walked over to the nearest dying werewolf.

They all watched as Stiles screamed again, plunging the knife in the wolf's heart. And as he kept screaming and crying and stabbing until there wasn't any movement.

And when Stiles finally collapsed on top of the 5th dead body, covered in blood and dirt and tears, they'd watched as Derek picked Stiles up and carried him away.

It wasn't a Stiles any of them knew. Derek knew better than any of them how tragedy could change people, and he thought maybe this was one of those things that would pass. And then he saw Peter's face. If his uncle could be so shocked, maybe there was a bigger problem.

But then Stiles had woken up the next day, cleaned himself up, wiped away the tears and planned his father's funeral. Stiles let Scott & Isaac take away some of his emotional pain and he held onto the pack and hugged them and allowed them to comfort him in any way they could think of.

And over the next few days, it seemed like Stiles was figuring out how to move on.

Until tonight. The funeral had been a week ago and no one really left Stiles' side. Then he held Stiles as the boy told everyone he would get better but that it would take time. Derek listened as Stiles lied, saying he remembered his dad falling and that all he remembered next was waking up in his bed at the den. That he thought maybe the trauma had caused him to block out anything else.

It scared Derek. Stiles lying so well. Lying to the point that he'd kept his heartbeat completely steady. Because Derek knew the only way he'd recognized the lie was because of the potential mate connection.

He doesn't know how Stiles learned how to lie among werewolves and he doesn't want to risk that he can keep doing it.

Derek had been fighting with himself, with what he wanted to do and what he knew he needed to do, and his want had been winning. But he knew now that he could never go through with it. He couldn't be bonded to Stiles.

If this was how Stiles' reacted to losing his father…

Well, Derek would never take the chance that Stiles' heart could be broken any further. He wouldn't subject him to the bond.

Worse was that Derek knew it was his fault that John was dead. The man would never have been involved in the fight if Stiles hadn't been there, in all his human weakness. No, John Stilinski definitely wasn't the type to let his son fight alone alongside werewolves. And Derek had been too selfish to force Stiles to stay out of the fight. And once more, because of Derek's selfishness, the people he loved most had been hurt the most.

* * *

"Stiles, we need to talk," said Derek as they lay in bed. It was late August, three weeks after John's death and just four weeks before what was once supposed to be the bonding ceremony. Derek knew he should have started this conversation before now but Stiles was finally sleeping through the night and he needed Stiles to be calm when he explained this.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," mumbled Stiles. He rolled on top of Derek and gently kissed along his neck, making his way towards Derek's collar bone. It had been weeks since he'd gotten the chance to touch Derek like this. That was kind of his fault, since he'd been dealing with his grief and not really in the mood. But Stiles missed this, missed feeling Derek's body on his and he wanted him now.

Stiles kept moving his lips down Derek's torso when he was abruptly pushed away.

"No," exclaimed Derek. "Stiles, you can't do this now. Not until you hear what I have to say."

"Sex first. Talk later," said Stiles, slapping Derek's hands away.

"No sex until after we talk. It wouldn't be…" Derek's stopped, not wanting to just blurt it out.

He forgot how well Stiles knew him.

Stiles lurched upward, stared at Derek in horror and moved off him. "You want to cancel the ceremony, don't you?"

Derek reached out for him. "Stiles, you have to understand. If we go through with it, there's too much risk for you."

"We talked about the risk, Derek. It was worth it."

"Not now."

Stiles yanked his hand away from Derek and stood up, backing away from the bed. "Don't you dare!"

Derek sat up, moving so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. "Do you think I want this? I want you, Stiles."

"So have me!" snapped Stiles. "I'm right here, Derek. I'm not going anywhere. You have me. Fuck, you can have me tonight and you can have me bonded to you in a month."

"And if I get hurt? The bond means you'd die if anything happened to me, Stiles." Derek frowned. "I won't let that happen."

Stiles laughed but it was cold. "You really think I'd want to keep living without you?"

"You don't know what you're saying," said Derek, pleading with Stiles to understand him. "You're so young…" he knew instantly that was the wrong thing to say.

"First," said Stiles, steel in his voice, "I will be 19 in 2 months. Which yes, in normal circumstances would be quite young. However, I grew up a damn good chunk when I watched my mother die of cancer. Then there was nearly being killed by my best friend because he turned into a werewolf. There was Peter. Jackson. Gerard. Allison. Matt. Torture. Alphas. I watched my father die on a battlefield littered with werewolves. So don't you dare tell me I'm young. I've been through more hell than a dozen adults will in their entire lifetime."

"I just meant you shouldn't be tied to one person so soon!"

"Why not? You're mine, Derek." Stiles was furious. "Mine. You don't think I know the seriousness of our relationship. I know werewolves mate for life. I know there's no way to break the bond once it's been set, even in death. I've known that for a while now and I still want it."

Derek's voice was quiet but sure as he looked up at Stiles. His eyes filled with tears but he knew he couldn't let Stiles go through with it. He wouldn't let Stiles be hurt any longer. He made a promise. "I don't."

"You're a liar," spat Stiles.

"I'm not lying to you, Stiles."

"Don't fucking patronize me. I may not have the super sense of smell or be able to hear your heartbeat but I know damn well when you're lying to me." Stiles pulled his shirt on and reached for the jacket over the chair.

"It's still no," said Derek softly. "I won't risk you getting hurt."

Stiles walked to the door. He turned in the doorway to look at Derek, his eyes piercing. "You're a fool, Derek," he said. "I'm going for a walk. Don't follow me." He slammed the door behind him, no doubt waking up any of the others who weren't already awake and stormed out.

* * *

Two weeks later at the pack meeting, Derek still couldn't get Stiles to talk to him. He was courteous around the pack and he still slept in their bed but he wouldn't touch Derek. Stiles seemed to be okay with Derek curling up next to him but he never reciprocated in any way.

Derek wasn't sure how much more he could take. His Alpha was screaming to make Stiles submit and even his human side was frustrated. He just needed Stiles to understand that they could still be together, just not at the level Stiles wanted. And that he wasn't doing it to be an ass. Hell he'd marry Stiles tomorrow if Stiles wanted a sign of his commitment. He just couldn't bond Stiles to him for life. It wasn't fair.

Derek noticed Scott & Erica staring at him, both with equally puzzled looks, and shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Okay I think that's everything I needed to say. Don't forget about training every day until school starts next week. Meeting adjourned."

"Actually," Stiles stood up from where he'd been sitting at Isaac's feet. The others had all been smart enough not to comment on the fact that Stiles refused to sit by his mate. "I have something to say."

Concerned faces turned towards Stiles. They all knew that he and Derek had fought, they'd fought before though they usually made up by now.

Stiles looked at them all and sighed. He didn't have to be a wolf to know they were hoping he was about to reconcile with Derek. Stiles usually did mend things publically, knowing it was important for the pack to see the healing process. And then usually he and Derek would continue to make up behind closed doors. Not this time.

He didn't really know how to put this without hurting them. So Stiles figured he'd just be blunt and let the pack ask whatever questions they needed to.

"I leave for Berkeley in two days. It's not a visit nor to set up a chance to commute to classes. I'm enrolled fulltime and I will be living in the dorms."


	14. Chapter 14

Every protest that rose from the pack died instantly at the look on Derek's face. Peter ushered everyone out of the room quickly, leaving Stiles and Derek behind to talk this out.

"You can't just leave," said Derek, completely at a loss.

"Do you think I want to?" asked Stiles bitterly. "I don't want to leave at all. Not you or Scott or the pack. This is my home."

"Then why go?!"

"Because I can't stay," argued Stiles. "Derek, I love you. With everything I have, I love you. And losing my dad hurts more than I thought it possibly could. You have no idea how many times I've imagined him dying since the day Scott and I first ventured into the woods. And nothing my mind could come up compares to the pain I feel right now." He brushed at tears in his eyes, needing to keep going. "I want to be able to go stay with him while we work things out but he's gone and that house feels like a shrine to people who longer walk the halls."

Derek wrapped his hands around Stiles' arms, clinging to him as if the movement would change his mind. "So stay. We'll move your stuff into one of the guest rooms if you need space, just stay."

Stiles shook his head. "That's just it, Derek. I don't need space. I need you and you won't give me that."

"You have me."

"Not all of you. Not if you're going to back away from this out of some misguided notion that I'm being forced into this bond."

"I can't. Stiles…I want to but I can't put you at risk for more pain." Derek didn't even try sweeping away the tears streaming down his face. "I won't hurt you like that."

Stiles looked at Derek, his eyes filled with pain. "This hurts. Derek, being here and knowing you'll always be holding back…I can't live with that. You won't let yourself love me enough and I can't keep my love away."

"Stiles…" Derek pleaded with him.

"Tell me it's a possibility. Tell me that someday, not in a few weeks, or even a few months, but someday we'll be bonded and get married and belong to each other in every sense." Stiles' hands pressed against Derek's chest, desperate for contact and yet ready to push away. "I can wait, Derek. If that's what you need to know that this is truly what I want, I'll wait. I just need to know that I have a someday."

Derek looked utterly devastated. "Time won't change the affects of the bond. And I can't risk your life like that, Stiles. I can't promise you someday. Can't this be enough?"

"Having only part of you will never be enough for me," said Stiles, voice ragged and broken. He moved his hands upward and tugged Derek's face towards him. Stiles pressed a final kiss to Derek's lips, chaste but lingering, as if he was savoring the taste. "I'll be upstairs packing my things." He pulled himself away with a choked cry.

"Stiles."

"You can change your mind at any time," Stiles softly added. "If you do, come find me and bring me home. And if you don't, I hope you find another way to be happy."

* * *

Stiles pulls Isaac close and holds on for dear life. "I'll miss you so, so much." The wolf has always been his favorite. Isaac's everyone's favorite really. He craved affection, especially physical affection for so long, that he's forever hugging and nuzzling and cuddling everyone. If it was anyone else it might be annoying but everyone makes the exception for Isaac.

And Stiles knew he was going to miss curling up with Scott to watch a Mets game on TV, even if Scott did insist on being a Yankees fan.

"Do you really have to go?" begged Scott, his voice pleading with Stiles to stay.

"I have to," answered Stiles, voice cracking. He wished he didn't, oh how he wished. But Derek won't give him what he wants, what he needs. And as long as they stay in this limbo, no one is moving forward. Stiles knew, perhaps better than Derek, how much their relationship affects the group. There's no growth, no learning, and this is too big for small solutions.

No, he definitely couldn't stay. It hurt, not like he was ripping his heart out but as though he'd slashed it to ribbons and thrown acid on the wounds.

Scott coughed suddenly and Stiles was shaken out of his reverie when he felt his pain lessen. He looked up in time to see black lines creeping up Scott's neck.

"Damn it, Scott!" he said, momentarily shoving his best friend away. "Stop it."

"I just wanted to make it better," he cried and tried to grab hold of Stiles again.

"I know," whispered Stiles. "I know. But I need this pain, buddy. It makes me strong. And I have to be strong to do this. Promise me you'll look out for him."

Scott nodded. "I promise."

Stiles wrapped his arms around Scott again and let Scott nuzzle into his neck for a minute to hold onto as much of Stiles' scent as possible. Finally, Stiles slid his arms away and stepped back towards his jeep.

He told himself not to do it but couldn't resist one more glance around the driveway, wondering if maybe…

"He's not coming, Stiles," said Erica in response to the unasked question. "I'm sorry."

"I know," he said quietly. "I just hoped."

And then the looks on their faces of pity and sorrow and definitely some Alpha directed rage was just too much for Stiles so with a final wave of his hand, he climbed into his jeep and drove away.

He put a good 20 miles between himself and the wolves before pulling to the side of the road and sobbing. After all, he was only 18 years old. Going to college shouldn't feel like his life is ending. But it did. So he cried softly for all that he's losing for a few more minutes. And then Stiles did what he always did. He duct-taped his heart back together, put his baby in drive, and kept going.

* * *

**EPILOGUE**

_"Report." The voice is harsh and unyielding._

_"It was difficult. The Hale pack is strong and the bond more powerful than most."_

_"But you were successful." It's not a question._

_The other nods, bowing slightly. "We were. Killing his father was the perfect plan. No one suspected a thing. The alpha was wracked with guilt and overly stubborn. The boy left."_

_"Excellent."_

* * *

Notes: **And thus ends part one. Sorry, not sorry, that it still ends kinda cliffhangery & without any real resolution. But as a full series, not just one story, that's where I always planned on ending this part of the story.** **As to when the second part starts. April 3rd will be the return of this series and updates will be every Wednesday. The break is for a few reasons. 1) I've got a commission piece to finish and some dance fics for the hopefully to be a real thing Spring Fling. 2) I want to be able to give y'all regular updates instead of getting sidetracked. 3) The second part is about 1/4 of the way done give or take a few extra scenes, and I want to have the entire thing finished before I start posting it.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Beginning Notes: Welp. My only really justifiable excuse is I did the Teen Wolf Spring Fling (both a Stiles/Jackson fic & a Allison/Erica with secondary Derek/Stiles fic, which I would love for y'all to read and tell me what you think.) But mostly I was being lazy and letting the I don't wannas win. I'm estimating about 7 chapters for this one. I haven't quite decided yet. I won't put a deadline (since clearly I'm awful at sticking to them) but I want to finish at least this part by the time the show comes back. **

**For those who utilize both here & AO3. On there this chapter begins the second part of the series. Here, you just get a continuation, but you should view this as more of a sequel than just another chapter.**

**This series will have a happy ending. These things do not happen in this part of the series. If you want to wait until part 3 to read so as not to prolong the angst, I completely understand.**

* * *

Stiles' arrival at Berkeley was not without its bumps and bruises. It turned out he hadn't been placed in a dorm, and he had to quickly find an apartment nearby. It was a bit spendier, but his trust fund would cover it. And though he hated to think about it, the life insurance money from his father's death would take care of him as well.

He did find the apartment a little more comforting once he got it set up and furnished. Being around werewolves had heightened his tendency to notice smells. Not having to deal with unfamiliarity was keeping most of the panic attacks away.

The couple panic attacks that did come around were…difficult, to say the least.

The first was when he finished setting up his apartment. Stiles looked his newly purchased pancake griddle and his mom's recipe book on the counter and the old jacket of his dad's draped over the couch. He was listening to the voicemail before he remembered that his dad would never call him back.

The jacket went in a closet.

His other panic attack wasn't so bad in the moment, but it almost felt worse when it ended. A memory of Derek and the pack triggered that one. Knowing that they were still out there, but that he couldn't be there and be whole, it left a tight lump in this throat and stinging in his eyes.

Still, life got a little bit easier as he fell into a routine. His AP classes and extra testing had him starting college the equivalent of a second semester sophomore. Stiles took on a full load, feeling like the distraction of classes would be good for him in these first few months. He had considered studying mythology for some time now. Berkeley had a great program and that combined with Latin and a minor in old Norse, Stiles felt like he had a solid base for building on the world he had left behind.

Because sure, he said he left it behind. But the truth was that while he left his pack and mate behind, there wasn't really a way to leave that world in the dust. Some things can't be unknown.

And Stiles couldn't help but hope that someday he'd be able to return to his pack. He wanted to know all he could to protect himself until then. He'd protect them as well if necessary.

Overall, classes were classes. He participated, met with teachers in office hours, more so that if he needed a boost on a grade or an unexcused absence, he might have a better chance of getting it than because he genuinely wanted to spend time with professors.

Greek life wasn't his forte, but he went to a few freshman mixers and created a few study groups.

The tough thing was that Stiles knew he was more of a loner. He'd grown up with his parents & Scott as his best friends, not needing more until the pack happened. And even that took him a bit by surprise. But he didn't want to risk more panic attacks by giving himself too much time to think. So the sacrifice of having to be sociable was an easy one.

Added to that was his continued research and study of pack politics from the books Peter sent with him. He created a strict training regimen, one that kept him in the best possible fighting shape.

It was working great. Until the first full moon since Stiles had left Beacon Hills happened.

Stiles berated himself later for not considering how much the full moon would affect him. He'd figured that of course he would notice, after all these years, how could he not? But he wasn't a werewolf.

The pack had created traditions though, ways of observing the full moons together, and Stiles wasn't there now. It left a void that he hadn't anticipated and sent him quickly spiraling into a panic attack.

When he recovered, a good two hours later and well into the night, he went for a run. Being outside wasn't a complete fix, but it helped. It was on one of the back paths in a nearby park that Stiles heard the growls. Since he wasn't stupid, he had several weapons on him, but he chose a cautious approach first. It was probably pack territory that he had crossed into, and he knew he still smelled of another pack.

Stiles figured honesty was worth a try. If not, he had mountain ash and a wolfbane infused knife in the sheath at his waist. "I'm Stiles," he started in a low voice. If these were indeed werewolves, they'd be able to hear them. "Formerly of the Hale pack and very breakably human. I apologize if I crossed into someone's territory. I'm having some trouble with the full moon and being away from everyone and I just thought a run would clear my head."

A girl and boy about his age stepped out of the trees. The girl was mostly in human form, though her eyes glowed yellow and Stiles noticed her claws kept flicking in and out. The boy was more fully shifted into beta form.

"I'm Ella," she said. "This is Zach."

"Is this your territory?"

Ella shook her head. "We just started school at Berkeley. Our pack had some complications with moving and we came ahead to start on time. We're born wolves, but being alone tonight triggered the shift. We didn't realize it'd be so tough."

"I know what you mean," said Stiles.

Zach seemed to be having more trouble staying in control, so Stiles refrained from reaching out to shake his hand.

"Sorry if we scared you," said Ella.

Stiles was concerned. "Will you two be okay out here? I'd hate for something to happen."

Ella shrugged and her claws flashed again. "I don't know what else we can do."

Stiles made his mind up quickly. "If you think you can handle the scent of lingering pack, you both can come back to my apartment. I could use the company."

He waited while Zach and Ella conferred in hushed tones.

"That would be nice," answered Ella. "Thank you."

Along the way, Ella explained that they were a nomadic pack, and worked out a sort of time-share like situation with other nomadic packs, moving around to areas that were considered neutral zones. Nomadic packs were still steady, so having one in the neutral areas at all times kept them from being overrun by omegas or hunters. Most large cities had nomadic packs in the college areas was how Ella explained it.

Stiles made chili with nacho cheese when they got back, opening up three bags of chips to use to scoop up the food and offering sodas as well. After a brief moment of hesitation, he threw all the pillows and blankets onto the floor.

"I don't know your routine, but we always had a sort of puppy pile. I'll sleep in my room but if you need it, my floor's open. As is the futon if that's not your thing." He didn't know how to ask for himself. Stiles' entire being was craving physical contact, but they barely knew him. He wouldn't impose.

Instead he put on a pair of Scott's sweats that he'd brought with him and an old shirt of Derek's (it brought the sting of tears to his eyes but the smell steadied him) and wrapped his dad's jacket around him. Ella knocked on his door frame a few minutes later. "Stiles?"

"Yeah?"

"We are cuddle pile type of werewolves. Um…" she hesitated a little. "Your scent is…comforting. It's weird, because you smell like a different pack, like really strongly, but there's something nice about it too. So um, yeah, could you sleep in here too?"

Stiles couldn't resist hugging her. "Oh thank god."

He slept between the pair of them, and though Zach's claws took a few more hours to finally stop flicking in and out, it was the best night's sleep that Stiles had in weeks.

The next morning, Ella & Zach easily accepted Stiles' offer to stay with him until the pack arrived. He didn't say that he needed them just as much, but both werewolves seemed to understand.

Ella and Zach's Alpha, a young woman a few years older than Stiles by the name of Ashton, arrived in town two days after the full moon incident.

She'd called from the road and asked if she could visit with Stiles. He'd said yes—remembering what Peter had taught them about it being bad form to turn down an invitation from an Alpha for a visit—and enlisted the two betas' help in cleaning up.

Ashton knocked at the door just a couple hours after her call.

"Hello," said Stiles politely.

Alpha Ashton seemed to observe him for a few moments before she spoke. "Stiles. It's a pleasure to meet you." She reached out to shake his hand. "I and the rest of my pack appreciate what you did to help our two youngest members. We had some moving trouble getting here, and didn't anticipate the stress causing so many problems. Thank you for taking care of them."

Stiles shrugged away the thanks. "It really wasn't a big deal. I think I needed them just as much."

"Oh?" Ashton quirked an eyebrow. She reminded Stiles a great deal of Allison, though with some of Erica's devil-may-care attitude.

"I recently left behind my own pack to come to school and even as a human, I wasn't looking forward to my first full moon alone." His voice choked a little at the end, remembering that he was likely to be alone for many more full moons after this. Maybe eventually they'd fall back to being nothing more than a lunar pattern.

"May I ask why you left?"

Stiles swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. "Another time? The wound is still a little raw."

Ashton reached out to him. "Oh honey, c'mere." She hugged him tightly and Stiles, still emotional from being alone and adrenaline quickly fading from the last couple days, finally let himself cry over all that he had lost.

At some point Ashton moved them to sit on the couch, while Ella and Zach put together some food in the kitchen, and Stiles cried until he didn't have any tears left.

"Feel better?" asked Ashton, patting his back soothingly.

Stiles nodded. "A little. I'm sorry to fall apart on you. I guess I didn't realize quite how alone I'd feel."

"Don't worry about it. I can't imagine what I'd do if I was in your shoes." Ashton's voice was calm and reassuring.

Stiles sniffled and rubbed at his eyes. He wasn't going to cry again. Not for things he couldn't change and that De…other people wouldn't.

"We made chili," said Zach, poking his head around the corner. "If you'd like some."

"That would be great," said Stiles. He let Ashton walk into the kitchen first, wiping the last few tears away.

The chili his classmates made was out of cans, and paired with Cheetos and badly grated cheese, but it was comforting and everything Stiles needed.

Ashton assured him over the meal that he was welcome to visit their home anytime, while Ella and Zach made it clear they planned to be over a lot. Stiles felt a small bit of hope that maybe this could all work out.

Stiles quickly warmed up to Ashton's pack. They were a hodgepodge pack, much like the one he'd left behind, and while they were able to teach him about certain protocols and courtesies that he hadn't learned yet, they too didn't stand on ceremony.

He remained closest to Ella & Zach, though only Ashton knew about Derek, and that only after a very long and very private conversation. When they finished talking, Ashton offered Stiles a permanent place as ally of the pack, giving him the grounding he so desperately needed.

Stiles continued his studies and his training as well. He did what he could with visits and news from the Hale pack.

On rare occasions, he let himself think about all the things he'd lost, all the people he'd had to give up. He'll wrap himself up in his dad's jacket and hold the blanket his mom made him when he was a baby and mourn.

On very, very rare days, days when Zach stands guard at the apartment door and makes sure no one bothers Stiles, he thinks about Derek.

He cries and he aches and he jerks himself off to the memory of the way Derek's eyes light up when he comes. Stiles refuses to wear anything but the pair of Derek's boxers & t-shirt that he brought with him on those days, even if the scent of him wouldn't even be discernible by the best werewolf nose.

He weeps for his loss and his pain and the ache of loneliness that never quite goes away.

Those days are thankfully rare though. So when they're over, he'd look back and be glad that his new pack knew how to help him through it.

For a long time, even with Ella and Zach and Ashton at his side, Stiles thought he'd be stuck in this in between state, not knowing where he fit.

But ever so slowly, he began to make a new home.

**_~NOTE: I think this is clear but if not, the next part goes back a bit to see how the pack has fared during this period.~_**

Derek paced. A lot. He paced in his room, he paced on the porch, he paced through the training room, basically everywhere.

He growled at just about everyone and couldn't stay in one place for very long. And then finally, at the pack meeting, he found something he could focus on.

"It's too quiet," Derek muttered.

"What are you talking about?" asked Boyd.

"Quiet," snapped Derek. "It shouldn't be this quiet. Something's wrong. Did you check the perimeter when you walked in?"

"That's not why it's…" started Scott.

"Did you check?"

"Yes, we checked," answered Isaac quickly, trying to stave off another fit of rage from Derek. Those had been happening way too often lately.

"Check again," demanded Derek.

"Oh my god." Lydia rolled her eyes. "No one is checking again. We're fine."

Derek turned towards her from his chair, eyes glowing red. "You may not be a wolf Lydia, but you've been around long enough to know that when I tell you to do something, I expect it to be done immediately. Now check…"

Lydia slapped him.

Scott inhaled sharply and everyone else froze. If Derek thought it was quiet before, that was nothing compared to now.

Jackson was pretty sure Lydia's head was going to be rolling on the ground in about 3.6 seconds.

"We're not checking. We're not going to take an extra round of security or do your laundry again because you think it smells or repaint a room or throw the coffee out because you don't think it tastes right," said Lydia. It was a damn good thing she'd taken Derek by surprise because she was pretty sure she only had a few more seconds to get this out and it really needed to be said.

"The coffee doesn't taste right to you because Stiles isn't the one pouring it in the cup. His scent has disappeared from your clothes or your bedroom or anywhere else for a while now. And the quiet? God, Derek, the quiet is because Stiles isn't here to talk anymore. Nothing's wrong other than that. No one is trying to kill us. Stiles is gone. And you can pace until you wear a damn path through the floorboards but unless you call him and apologize and beg him to come back, none of that is going to change!"

Lydia beckoned for Isaac to go sit by Derek because she could see his eyes filling with tears and she wasn't finished yet. Lydia knew she was being harsh but it had been four months of everyone tiptoeing around Derek and not forcing him to admit the truth. The entire pack was living in limbo and it had to stop. The only one who could ever calmly tell Derek what to do was Stiles so Lydia was doing what she did best and putting it bluntly.

"I know you miss him, Derek," she continued. "We all miss him. Sometimes I miss Stiles so much it physically hurts. But he made it very clear that the only person that will bring him back is you and for some reason you are too fucking stubborn to go to him."

Isaac wrapped both arms around Derek as Lydia spoke. Derek didn't move, but the tears had started falling.

"You have to move on, Derek. I know it sucks and it's awful and it feels like you can't but we can't keep living like this. Jackson and Danny can drive you to Berkeley right now if you want."

Derek looked up at her and the anguish in his eyes nearly broke her completely. "I can't," he whispered. "Stiles lost so much. I can't risk hurting him again."

Lydia started to address that idiotic remark but saw Peter shake his head almost imperceptibly. "Then you have to move forward, Derek. We're all here to help you but you have to put the effort in too. It's time to let him go."

Derek quivered and Isaac held tighter. Allison pulled away from Scott and came over to rub Derek's shoulders. "I'm scared," he said, his voice breaking.

"I know," answered Lydia, moving forward and gently placing her hands on Derek's knees. "But we're going to be with you every step of the way."

The rest of the pack murmured their agreement and gathered around Derek, quietly reminding him that he wasn't alone.

* * *

**As always, I'm on tumblr at onlymystories where I will happily answer questions and just talk in general. That's my personal & multi-fandom blog. If you're only here for the Teen Wolf, the one you want is hellbusalpha.**


	16. Chapter 16

Peter's tea was sitting on the table—no doubt already fixed to his preferences—when he arrived at the café to meet Lydia. "Thank you," he said, squeezing her hand as he sat down.

Lydia squeezed back and reached her other hand out for the letter she knew Peter had with him. "What does Stiles have to say this month?"

The regular letters from Stiles were always addressed to the secret PO Box she and Peter had. They'd share greetings to the pack if applicable, but most of these dealt with pertinent news bulletins. Peter had felt it necessary to keep the letters secret from the pack as a general rule after Stiles told them he'd been somewhat adopted into a nomadic pack. No sense in upsetting anyone for no reason.

Peter didn't choose to answer Lydia's question, knowing she'd prefer to read it for herself anyway.

Most of it was simple updates. How school was going—spring semester of Stiles' sophomore year by age and senior year by credit status—as well as any new supernatural facts they should be aware of. There was one different suggestion this time.

"He wants us to ally with other packs?" queried Lydia, looking up at Peter.

He nodded. "It's not a bad idea. My sister had several alliances that dissolved upon her death, but alliances can be useful. And as Stiles points out, Beacon Hills has a tendency to draw an overabundance of unsavory visitors."

"Indeed," agreed Lydia. "It would probably be best if you talked to Derek about it. Rather than bringing it up at a pack meeting."

"Of course." Peter flagged a server down and placed their lunch order while Lydia finished the letter.

They spent the rest of the meal discussing the pack and everyone's activities. Scott and Allison were engaged—it happened at Christmas, though they were planning a long engagement—and Allison was working with her dad to continue establishing Argent claim to the Beacon Hills area over other hunters. Lydia suspected the long engagement was in hopes of Stiles returning first.

Isaac and Jackson both took on volunteer work over the last year, surprising everyone with the way they worked together to plan after school activities for young kids.

Boyd and Erica were both enrolled in the police academy. Having members of the pack on the local law enforcement would be very useful.

Things weren't always easy. Some days the absence of their most vibrant pack member hit everyone hard, but most of the time they were a good pack and a happy pack.

Lydia was grateful. Things could be much worse.

"Next order of new business," began Allison.

"Do we have to be so official at all of our pack meetings?" asked Jackson.

"None of us are any good at remembering everything we have to go over unless we do it this way. Or do we want a repeat of last year's harvest moon?" Allison quirked an eyebrow at Jackson and he halted his complaints. They never used to use rules of order in meetings but that was when they had Stiles and his brain could keep track of everything at once.

Derek cleared his throat and the hints of chatter around the living room subsided and focused on Allison.

She smiled gratefully. "We discussed that Derek's been seeing progress with pack negotiations. The Andrews pack in Bend, Oregon seems promising, as does the Walters pack in Tucson, Arizona. Allies are of course a great thing, especially considering how many problems we seem to deal with on a regular basis." Allison wrinkled her nose at the memory of their recent battle with a pair of ghouls. They'd ended up burning their clothes since the stench never came out.

"But the alliance contracts will take at least another six months to finalize, so Boyd and I had an idea for extra protection."

"Patrols are good," stated Boyd, "But we're a small pack and can't thoroughly protect the territory on our own."

"The patrolling pair is usually in greater danger too," noted Danny.

"Exactly," agreed Boyd. "Allison and I think we should try a different means of protecting the boundaries."

Allison turned to Lydia. "Could you and Peter research protective runes? Our thought was that we could add them to trees & even stones around the territory. Boyd and I think if we had protective ones that deter intruders—at least temporarily—and then others that sent some sort of warning to us, we'd be able to respond with better plans and less chance of injury or damage."

"That's an excellent idea," said Derek. "Lydia? Peter?"

Lydia and Peter exchanged one of their odd wordless conversations for a few minutes.

"The runes should be fine, but getting the warning to us could be tricky. Derek's alpha power won't connect the human pack members enough to use that." Peter made his observation and then turned back to Lydia.

Scott raised his hand. "What if we all got Derek's tattoo? Could you spell the ink or use materials that would connect the entire pack that way?"

Derek looked immensely touched by the suggestion. Scott was pack of course, but there was often a thread of fear that one day he'd leave, still irrationally blaming Derek for the changes in his life. A suggestion like this, or permanently binding himself to the pack, meant a great deal coming from Scott.

"That would work," said Lydia cautiously. "Would everyone be open to that?"

The rest of their pack nodded their assent. Allison and Derek covered a few additional topics before they all headed outside for more training.

Over the next week, Peter accompanied Lydia around the territory so she could carve runes into trees or etch them into stones all along the territory. They activated warning runes at all entrances to Beacon Hills—even the ones not within Hale territory—so they could keep an eye on the rest of the town as well.

The tattoos gave everyone a headache, something Deaton said to expect when he provided supplies for it. Chris Argent had suggested a woman who could do the inking since Derek's artist was in New York, and they were all tattooed within a week.

Danny and Erica both felt like the headaches weren't so much like normal ones. But how to describe it exactly was impossible.

The headaches mostly eased after a few days, but there was often a lingering ache, very faintly in the background for the pack. It wasn't bothersome or anything, sort of like those first hints of a migraine still hours away from appearing. Since it never got any worse, the pack learned to ignore it.

Boyd and Allison's idea proved to be very timely, as two weeks after the runes were carved and activated, a hunting party arrived in Beacon Hills.

Beacon Hills had a hunter problem. The pack knew this. Chris Argent knew this. What they didn't know was that Stiles knew it too.

Over the last two years, things with Stiles and his separation from the pack had settled into a tough but workable routine. Stiles hadn't denied the others the chance to visit him. He loved his friends and didn't think that should be completely his call. It was tough to see them, and never see Derek coming with them, but he'd managed.

At first, no one came. Then after the first couple full moons, a few visited. He suspected that first full moon had been just as hard on them, though no one ever said anything. He put away his training gear at Ashton's and used the old wolfsbane concoction to hide the scent of other werewolves. He'd even made a spray to make sure his room didn't smell like other wolves. Stiles was fairly certain that Jackson had suspicions but Jackson never said anything.

But after a while the visitor list slowed down. Scott had a hard time seeing Stiles in small increments instead of all the time and Stiles wasn't actually surprised that he was the first one to pull away and stick to only visiting on his birthday. Allison followed not too long after. Lydia called or texted with questions and ideas but she didn't visit. Jackson, Danny, and Boyd came up once for his first birthday away but that was it. The temporary visits were hard on everyone, and so Stiles welcomed the dwindling visits. It was hard to move on with the constant pull of his pack around him.

Erica and Isaac had been the most regular, showing up every couple months for that first year and more sporadically after. Peter was the best source for information on Beacon Hills or potential danger at Berkeley, often sending supposedly cryptic information that would come in handy shortly thereafter. But otherwise, Stiles' life was starting to belong to Berkeley and his friends here. It didn't stop him from making sure he knew what was going on in Beacon Hills, beyond just what Peter told him.

That was his pack. That was his family. And Stiles protected his family.

When he first heard that some hunters had showed up, he wasn't overly worried. Chris and Allison had declared Beacon Hills their territory and it didn't take too much to get other hunters to leave.

But the hunters kept coming, they kept attacking, and the Hale pack was getting hurt. The Argents weren't actually hunting and those who blindly hated werewolves continued to attack. Chris was fighting with the pack according to Peter but it wasn't helping. And then word came that a group of over 25 hunters were on their way.

The Hale pack couldn't live through that. At least not all of them. But they would do their damndest to try.

Stiles, being a bit of a Star Wars fan and a self declared werewolf Yoda, was not interested in "try".

So Stiles went to work. He got Ella and Zach to make a few small raids for supplies and then he loaded up his jeep and headed back to Beacon Hills.

A mile or so from town, on the road that Zach had confirmed was the one all of the hunters were on, about two hours away, Stiles set up. He took a moment to be glad that Beacon Hills was a small enough town that there were only a couple ways to arrive and for the cockiness of hunters in not spreading out.

He set explosive devices in lines along the road at multiple locations. The detonator went in his pocket. Then Stiles pulled his bat out of his jeep (because while he loved fighting with a sword, it was kind of hard to be inconspicuous with one) , pulled his hood up over his head and stood in the middle of the road.

Chris Argent technically arrived on the scene first. He had parked a little further away and hiked in, taking a sniper's position in the trees. His role was to shoot at the SUVs, not that it would help a lot but maybe it would distract a few, and send word to the pack how many hunters were in the party exactly, and any weapons counts he could manage.

When he saw the man standing in the middle of the road, his first instinct was to shoot him. Then it registered that the guy was wearing a red hoodie and Argent knew for a fact that there was only one guy who would be waiting on hunters dressed like that. He chose to wait and see what happened. His binoculars showed the cars to be only a minute or two away, not enough time to get Stiles out of there. And somehow he knew that if Stiles plan was to come back and die with his pack, he wouldn't be stopping here in the road outside of town. So Argent watched and waited.

The line of SUVs came to a stop a few yards in front of Stiles. One hunter, a man named Marcus that Chris recognized as the group's leader, stepped out and walked to Stiles.

He threw a handful of what was obviously powdered wolfsbane at Stiles. When Stiles didn't react, he spoke. "You're human. You with Argent?"

"I'm here in protection of the Hale pack," answered Stiles.

Considering Argent had cast his lot with that pack, Chris found Stiles' word choice interesting.

Marcus gave Stiles a look of disgust. "Another idiot human desperate to get the bite. Well, guess what, kid, your little wolf buddies get to die today. You've got a choice, either you can die with them, or we can toss you in a trunk and you can live another day once they've been taken care of."

One hunter yelled out the window. "Problems, Marcus?"

Marcus waved him off. "Human punk. I got this."

Stiles grinned, slow and, at least from Chris' point of view, a little devilish. "Marcus, may I call you Marcus? You don't seem to understand the situation. I'm the one in charge here. And you, you are going to be the first message to the hunting community about the rules of Beacon Hills. There will be no hunting here. Derek Hale is Alpha, Chris Argent is lead hunter, and that is in no way up for debate. Do you understand that?"

Marcus punched him.

Stiles rolled his head with the punch, allowing it to graze off his cheek and leave minimal damage.

"I'm not your messenger," snapped Marcus.

Stiles laughed. "I didn't say you were a messenger, Marcus. I said you were a message. There's a difference." He didn't waste time pulling the detonator out of his pocket. Stiles just pressed the button and watched.

Marcus' first reaction to Stiles' words was to reach for a gun. Then came the explosion and while Marcus fell down in shock as every single SUV and the people inside were ripped to shreds, Stiles quickly disarmed him.

"I'll kill you!" screamed Marcus, lunging at Stiles.

Stiles broke his kneecap.

Marcus fell to the ground, screaming in agony.

"Listen and listen well, Marcus," said Stiles as calmly as if he was discussing movie show times. "I don't want hunters in Beacon Hills. You will inform the hunting community that this town is off limits. Its pack is off limits. This was me being nice."

He leaned down and yanked Marcus up off the ground, pulling his face close. "An uninvited hunter shows his face here again and I won't be so considerate."

"How the hell am I supposed to get out of here?"

Stiles barely looked at him. "There's a rental car on the side of the road a quarter mile back. The key is on the right front tire."

"My fucking kneecap is broken you piece of shit!"

Stiles smacked the back of Marcus' head with the bat. "Not my problem. Walk."

Marcus dragged himself through the burning wreckage, stopping only long enough to grab a thin piece of metal that he held onto as a semi-crutch, before continuing to make his way towards the promised car.

Stiles waited until Zach texted to confirm that the hunter had reached the car and was driving away from Beacon Hills. Only then did he turn away from the disaster in front of him and push his hoodie away.

"Argent!" called Stiles. "You and I need to talk."

Chris Argent nearly fell out of the tree. He recovered and walked over to Stiles. "Nice fireworks."

Stiles turned that creepy ass grin on him. "It is kind of pretty." Then he snapped out of it and focused. "You've got a problem."

Argent nodded. "The pack keeps having to deal with hunters lately. But maybe this will deter them for a while."

"First, of course it will deter them for a while. But no, the pack does not have a problem with hunters, you do."

"Excuse me?" Argent glared at him. "How is this my problem?"

Stiles wasn't backing down. "You declared Beacon Hills to be under Argent jurisdiction and yet you let the pack do most of the fighting. You're a fucking hunter, Chris. Pick your balls back up from wherever you lost them and be a damn hunter."

Chris started to interrupt.

"I'm not finished. Your family is the oldest family of hunters in history. You have precedence over all other hunters and unlike most, you adhere to the code." At Chris' odd look, Stiles clarified. "The Code is a good thing. Even the pack can admit that when they're thinking beyond ingrained prejudices. There are dangerous and killer werewolves out there, ones not doing it out of revenge or psychotic episodes but genuine killers. Hunters have a place in this world. But going after any werewolf and anyone near them needs to stop. Threatening and stalking werewolves trying to hold onto a stable pack, or fighting off legitimate threats, needs to end. You have to stop it."

Argent gave a sigh of resignation. "What do you want me to do?"

Stiles answered simply. "Start networking. Work with Derek to bring in a few more hunters to town, ones that follow the code and think objectively. Then start working on spreading the word that hunters who do not follow the code will not be given protection. They get caught, no one's bailing them out or forging documents or sending in top notch lawyers. No one is taking revenge on the pack that killed the hunter."

Chris didn't like that one. "What?!"

"A werewolf that kills a hunter in self-defense is not the same as one who takes innocent life and you know it," said Stiles. "Turn the legend of a hunter back into something to be respected, not feared. Your father and people who listened to him fucked things up. Put it back together."

Chris knew Stiles was right. And while he kind of hated that he hadn't thought about it himself, there was a spark back in his heart at the idea of making the name Argent matter again, taking it back from the destruction his sister and father had caused. Since the attack from the pack that killed John Stilinski, he hadn't had much chance to do any hunting. This…this felt good. It had promise. "Okay," he agreed.

Stiles nodded as though he knew that would be Argent's answer. Hell, he probably did.

"I need you to do one more thing for me," said Stiles and his voice was a little more hesitant this time.

Chris gave him a sharp look. "What?"

"Tell Peter to meet me at the coffee shop by my dorm. He'll know the one. I need to talk to him."

"Peter?" asked Chris. "Not Derek or one of the other pack members?"

Stiles shook his head. "It needs to be Peter."

"Yeah, I'll tell him."

"Thanks," said Stiles and he turned to head back to his jeep.

"Stiles!" called Chris as the young man walked away.

Stiles looked back at him.

"Thank you. For saving us. You didn't have to put yourself at risk."

Stiles' eyes were instantly dark with unresolved grief. "They're my pack. I'll always protect them, by any means necessary."

"He still lo…"

"Don't," interrupted Stiles. "I know Derek loves me. That never changed. I still love him. But he's made his decision to live in fear of what could happen instead of choosing to trust that I know what I'm doing. And I still can't live here without having all of the man I love. I won't settle."

Chris didn't say any more about it. He just gave Stiles a slight nod of understanding and walked away. Reporting to the pack was going to be interesting to say the least.


	17. Chapter 17

Hi darlings,

So I know some of you have been asking about an update on this story (which is absolutely fair, it's been a long time and I was hoping to be done with it a while ago) and here it is. The thing with this story/series is that it was one of the first ones I started immediately after watching Teen Wolf. For better or worse, fanon has saturated my brain since then and so a lot of my perceptions of the characters have changed. That's honestly what makes writing this particular story the most frustrating. I have no inspiration for it anymore. And while I don't like the idea of only writing chapters based on reviews or kudos, I'll admit that the low number makes this even less desirable to work on. For whatever reason, this particular story hasn't appealed to many readers. And I'm sure you can understand that it just isn't that much fun to write a story that no one is reading.

That being said, those of you who have been reading still deserve closure. I can do this one of two ways. I can not!fic the entire rest of the story or I can not!fic it with the snippets that are already written. Because there still are a fair number of scenes written, including the Stiles/Derek reunion parts, but it's all the in between stuff that I have no inspiration for anymore. So do you guys want me to still include the scenes or should I just straight up not!fic it?

Everything will be in one chapter regardless and posted on Tuesday. So let me know now which way you want me to do this. Again, I'm sorry, I know this isn't really fair, but I can't foresee myself giving this the treatment it deserves anytime soon and I don't want to leave it hanging forever.


	18. Chapter 18

**Okay, here we go. First, let me just say that I appreciate y'all being understanding. I don't like not finishing the story but I like leaving it hanging even less. There really are quite a few scenes written out, which I guess kind of tells you how long this should have been. If I ever get the inspiration back and expand on the scenes and write things out, I'll be sure to put a new chapter up saying so. I don't see that happening though so don't wait up.  
For those unfamiliar with not!fic, it essentially means a detailed outline of a fic. Basically I'll be telling you what would happen next and how a scene would go instead of writing it all out. You see a lot of not!fic on tumblr when someone says how they want a fic to go but wants someone else to write the actual fic.  
Finally, a reminder to those newly checking out this story, I deliberately choose not to use archive warnings and I do not tag my stories with every possible detail. I can assure you that neither Derek nor Stiles dies in this story and there is no non-con. Everything else is fair game.**

* * *

A flashback a bit would have shown Stiles studying and learning more and realizing that centuries ago, it was common for hunters & werewolves to work together, guarding people from real threats instead of what the situation had become. He also grows closer to his Berkeley pack, though he continues to miss his real pack.

He sends the letters encouraging Peter to have Derek create alliances and Stiles researches hunter families who still believe in an honorable code. He networks a lot, keeping his ear to the ground for news of packs or people like him who take on a unique role in a pack. When he gets wind of a hunter invasion of Beacon Hills—mostly caused by the fact that Allison is fully Hale pack and Chris isn't doing anything to hold up the Argent name—Stiles takes matters into his own hands.

After his conversation with Chris is his talk with Peter is about alphas he's gotten in touch with that want to form a council. And they need the Hales as part of it. Western packs are more solitary, not as large or widespread as eastern packs, but they need a better system so as not to be threatened. Derek should be lead Alpha—as he's formed a few alliances already—but Peter has to train up the rest of the pack in werewolf politics.

This isn't a pack by any means and so Derek won't be an alpha of alphas or anything like that. It is a council designed to protect and enforce codes of behavior.

Stiles is going to put together a ground team—the ones who will keep an eye on situations and report unbiasedly, as well as the best people to call when consequences are to be doled out and can't be left to a pack or hunter family. That needs people who are objective and merciful. There will be no torturing here. But it also needs people who aren't hesitant to kill when need be.

Over the next two years, the council will slowly form, quietly and under the radar. You're either in or you know nothing about it. Chris and Peter both know just how deeply Stiles is involved, but he keeps his name out of things for the most part, preferring to be a behind the scenes influence. Derek goes along with Peter's suggestions about alliances & councils, but he's not very invested in any of it.

It takes a couple of events to take Derek for apathetic to fully invested in working to create alliances and finally stepping up to be an alpha. One happens within a few weeks of Stiles stopping the hunters, the other about eight months later.

**~Written Scene~**

Erica was freaking out. It had been over a year since she'd seen Stiles but it was his birthday and she was the Catwoman to his Batman and despite the fact that it had been three years since Stiles left, there were some things that didn't change.

Normally Scott went with her to visit but Allison was due to give birth any day now and he couldn't really risk it.

So Erica had gone on her own and knocked on Stiles' door, ready for an epic weekend. That's when she'd smelled wolf and the knocking became a pounding that had her ready to barrel through the door. She couldn't hear Stiles heart racing faster so she was hoping he was okay but he'd also gotten really good during the years with the pack and steadying his heartbeat so they couldn't read his emotions as well.

Not that it worked that well but maybe Stiles had improved the technique since she'd last visited.

Then the door swung open. Erica's eyes swept the room, finding only Stiles. Confused, she looked around the room again and then realization hit.

"Stiles." Her mouth gaped at him.

"So we should probably talk," said Stiles ruefully.

Once Erica had been past her shock, she pretty much strapped Stiles into a booth at the local 24 hour diner and forced him to explain everything. She would have made him stay in the room but Stiles said it was a long story and that he needed waffles while trying to explain.

He wasn't lying. They'd stayed at the diner for about six hours and Erica still felt overwhelmed.

And now she was standing at the edge of the porch, trying to figure out a good excuse for why she had to skip the pack meeting. Because there was no way she was going to be able to find a good way to tell Derek that Stiles was now a werewolf.

First because they were going to have to restrain Derek from killing every werewolf at Berkeley because of course his first thought was going to be that someone had attacked Stiles.

After that was the really scary thought. When Derek learned that Stiles had chosen the bite. Asked for it. According to Stiles he had made friends with a couple pack members and figured out the other members from there. Belonging to the pack just felt right, had explained Stiles, so he'd done his homework, determined which one was the Alpha, and one day just walked up and said he needed to be part of a pack again and if the Alpha didn't mind too much, he'd like the bite.

Erica knew that wasn't the whole story. Sure Stiles' heart didn't skip a beat and he seemed calm but she knew how he was when he lied. Erica hadn't pushed for more details, she didn't really have that privilege anymore, but she wondered all the same.

Erica could just picture Derek's face when he realized Stiles had chosen a pack. A pack that wasn't his.

Stiles made sure to tell Erica that his first choice for a pack had always been them but that of course without Derek that was pretty much impossible.

She was now debating whether telling Derek about how Stiles' heart had quickened and his eyes flashed with pain at the thought of Derek would help soften the blow or just make it worse.

But mostly she was just trying to figure out how to keep from telling Derek a damn thing.

Erica took a deep breath, steeled herself and walked into the living room. No one really reacted too much, though both Danny and Allison gave her odd looks. Sometimes it was really weird the way Allison could sense emotions as well as any werewolf.

She sat down next to Peter, an odd choice for her since usually he and Lydia tended to quietly confer during meetings.

"Erica?" Peter quietly indicated his confusion while Derek was distracted going over a new training exercise with Boyd.

"Keep an eye on him," she mouthed back.

Peter's eyes showed he was still puzzled but he nodded his agreement.

"How was the trip, Erica?" asked Scott. "Did Sti…I mean um?"

Several of the pack rolled their eyes. Of course Scott couldn't leave well enough alone. Erica had been hoping she could tell Derek privately, after the meeting. So much for that.

Derek turned away from Boyd. "I do know that you visit Stiles on his birthday, you know."

Erica gave a sheepish grin. "I didn't think you wanted to hear about it."

"I don't," said Derek. "It…it hurts," he continued in a rare display of honesty. "But I wouldn't tell you not to see him or to hide it from me."

If it was possible for a heart to clench in pain, that's what Erica's was doing. Because if Derek didn't really want to hear about Stiles' birthday, he definitely wasn't going to enjoy the rest of it. But as long as Scott didn't try for another facepalm moment, she'd be okay.

"You don't smell like Stiles," puzzled Scott.

And Erica smacked herself in the head for jinxing it.

"True," said Isaac quietly. "Usually a visit with Stiles leaves his scent lingering for a few days. It is kind of distinctive."

Scott sniffed. "Oh no there it is. What's wrong with it? I can get Stiles but it's different somehow."

Isaac, Peter, and Jackson all clued in at the same time.

"Oh shit," muttered Jackson.

Isaac and Peter moved over to the wall, hovering just behind Derek, who was looking at them in confusion, his brain not catching up as fast as the others.

"Oh my god," whispered Allison. Her eyes widened.

And then Derek snarled, deep and guttural. "He's turned?!"

Erica nodded.

"Who attacked him?" screamed Derek, his eyes glowing in rage. "I'll kill them!"

Peter and Isaac reached forward, wrapping themselves around Derek and forcing him back into the chair. Derek fought against them so even Jackson joined in holding him down.

"Why wouldn't Stiles tell us he was attacked by another werewolf?" asked Scott.

At Erica's tearful expression, Lydia sighed softly. "Oh dear. He wasn't attacked was he, Erica?"

Erica shook her head softly, eyes wet at the thought of how this would hurt Derek.

"He chose to be a wolf?" asked Peter, asking the question his nephew couldn't.

She nodded. "There was a pack at Berkeley that Stiles grew close to and…"

"He joined a pack?" Derek's voice was small and broken.

Erica didn't really know how to answer that without hurting her Alpha more. Peter had insisted that the pack learn their history and she knew that wolves couldn't just go back and forth. Once you chose a pack that was it. The only way out was to go Omega and an Omega was by definition alone, the end of the line. There were occasional legends about an Omega being able to join another pack but it was rare. The point of course was that Stiles' choosing of another pack over Derek's was a betrayal that went deep. And her talk with Stiles had proven that he knew the choice he was making.

The pack seemed to be holding their breath as one, unsure of what to do next.

And then Derek let out a howl that turned into a wail and it was filled with so much anguish it made even Lydia cringe away from him. A second later, he'd turned full wolf, not his larger alpha form but a genuine wolf and leaped out the window.

Everyone stared.

"I didn't know we could do that," said Danny after a moment had passed.

Peter wiped a tear from his eye. "We can't. Not voluntarily. It's an animal reaction to a moment of intense emotional pain. When the only reaction that seems acceptable is to turn off everything human and let the wolf take over."

He was quiet as he let that sink in. Even the death of Derek's family hadn't brought on that reaction.

"Derek won't be back for a while."

**~End Written Scene~**

Derek stayed away for two weeks, only coming back when the full moon meant his pack needed him. Up to this news, he'd been more active in council activities but not progressive. Now he changed and threw himself into it full force.

His pack still felt sad about why Derek was so focused, but no one could deny that it was doing good. Killings of both werewolves and hunters had gone down under Derek's (and the council's) leadership and packs were beginning to live in peace again.

About eight years after Stiles had first left, Derek was stuck with the pack on Stiles' birthday, rather than being able to spend it on his own. The pack was doing well, as was the council. There were always problems to be dealt with, many of them not just werewolves and hunters, but the council had a good team. Derek and Chris, as the respective lead werewolf and hunter representatives would send requests for enforcement or executions to Vali.

Vali and the team of other enforcers were kept separate from the council so as to minimize influence.

They were waiting to hear back about an issue with a Nevada pack, which was why Derek was stuck at the pack house. The pack tried to give him his space, but Scott and Peter both learned that Derek blamed himself for Stiles' choosing to take the bite from someone else, though they weren't able to learn why he felt this way.

**~Written Scene~**

Derek came to visit him once. Just once, right after Stiles killed the hunters. Stiles didn't know what in the hell Derek had told the pack but it became clear a couple years later, in fact the last time he saw Lydia, that no one knew about it. Which meant that Derek had to have stayed away from the pack for at least a week to get rid of his scent.

Stiles had some very, very fond memories of that night.

Unfortunately he also had some heartbreaking ones. And they were usually the only ones that showed up.

It had started when he walked into his dorm room from class. He didn't technically have a single for a dorm but his roommate had joined a frat and was basically never there.

So he wasn't really expecting to see anyone sitting in the desk chair when he opened the door and dumped his books on the floor.

He really wasn't expecting it to be Derek.

There were a million questions he wanted to ask, a million more things he wanted to say. What came out was "Derek."

Derek looked at Stiles with eyes full of want and longing and pain. "I miss you."

Stiles stared at him for a while. Derek didn't move from the chair. Stiles didn't move from the door, though he did shut it behind him. He wasn't sure what to do next. He needed to know what Derek wanted, if there was something wrong with the pack or did Derek really miss him. For that matter, did this mean Derek changed his mind and was going to stop being stubborn?

Stiles was pretty sure it wasn't the latter because Derek probably would have said so already. Something in Stiles' heart told him that unless he kicked Derek out of his dorm room right now, he was going to regret anything else that happened this weekend.

Then there was the other part of him that kind of wanted to say to hell with talking. That part just wanted to rip Derek's jeans off and let him fuck him six ways to Tuesday.

That part won.

"I don't really know why I'm here," said Derek, as Stiles was fighting his inner battle.

Stiles stared at him. Then he reached one hand behind him to lock the door. "I don't really care," he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and walking towards Derek.

"Stiles," began Derek, though his heart started beating a little faster. "We should probably talk…"

Stiles took his belt off and kicked his sandals into a corner.

"We should probably do a lot of things," he said in response.

**_(I never really wrote the sex part of this scene so Sex happens!)_**

It all could have been a beautiful memory, one that allowed Derek and Stiles to just lay there together, wrapped up in each other for hours. Except…

Everything about fucking Derek had been perfect for Stiles. It more than lived up to the fantasy. But now that he was outside the moment, now that he was coming off his high, he knew what was missing.

Derek hadn't scented him once during the entire experience.

He'd kissed his neck, his throat, kissed all over him. But he hadn't sniffed or licked or nuzzled Stiles once. And Stiles knew very well what that meant. It didn't just mean that Derek was stubborn. It meant he didn't want Stiles coming back. That nothing had changed and he was still the guy who didn't really belong to anyone.

Stiles' hands reached up almost involuntarily and pushed away from Derek.

The wolf looked up at him, dazed. "Stiles?"

Stiles stood up and started pulling his jeans back on and slipping a fresh shirt over his head.

"Stiles, you don't have to get up."

He knew that. Oh how well he knew that it would be so easy for him to stay there. To pretend that he didn't need to be bonded to Derek and that he would live whatever lie he needed to.

Maybe he could do that. Stiles thought about it, entertained the thought. Maybe he could get through life without being whole. With part of him never getting fulfilled because Derek was scared or stupid or stubborn or a little of all three.

It was at that moment that he could hear his dad's voice in his head. 'Don't ever be with someone who doesn't make you whole. They need to be the missing piece.' And even worse was that he could hear himself promising his dad that he wouldn't do anything to disappoint him.

If his dad could see him now…Stiles nearly threw up at the thought.

"Stiles?" Derek's voice sounded worried this time.

"Will you go through with it?" asked Stiles.

Derek knew exactly what he was asking. "I told you before Stiles, I don't want to put you at risk and…"

"Answer the question Derek," Stiles wasn't in the mood to tiptoe around the issue. "I don't need it to happen tomorrow or even in a year. But yes or no, someday you would agree to go through the mating ceremony, to bind us together forever."

Derek shook his head. "Stiles, it's not that simple."

"Yes? Or no?" Stiles' voice was cold. It had to be. If he thought any harder about this he was going to break down and cry. He was focused on his memories of how hard it was not having that promise from Derek, of knowing he wasn't really pack, not the way he was supposed to be.

"No." The Alpha's voice was quiet, barely over a whisper, but Stiles could hear it loud and clear.

It was like his heart turned to ice. No. His heart was clearly already ice because Derek had just shattered it completely.

Derek stood up and got dressed. He walked over to Stiles and put a hand on his shoulder, turning him towards him. "Stiles."

"You should go."

"You don't mean that."

"I do, Derek."

"Stiles, I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"You never are. Yet somehow I still always end up hurt." It was a low blow and Stiles knew it.

"I still love you," Derek's voice was breaking but those words were the worst possible thing he could have said.

"Get the fuck out," snarled Stiles and he hadn't spent years among werewolves without picking up a few tricks.

Derek released him immediately. He tried one last time. "Stiles…"

Stiles didn't think he could handle hearing his name again. It hurt. Oh fuck did it hurt. "Get. Out."

Derek left.

Three hours after Derek walked away from him, Stiles walked up to Ashton and asked for the bite.

**~End Written Scene~**

After the bite took, Stiles immersed himself in learning perfect control, determined to be the best. He graduated school and traveled some with his pack, mostly staying in the northwest.

Stiles bonded with Ashton's pack, though never quite as closely as with his first one. He traveled some, seeking out extra research on werewolf politics, sending on things that he found to Peter and Lydia. That was his only contact though. After Derek's visit, Stiles cut off all remaining ties to the pack and he passed information while traveling so there was no chance of anyone finding him.

It was on one of his trips away, a trip that he'd hesitated to go on thanks to rumors of trouble heading Ashton's way, but the pack had insisted there was nothing to worry about.

They were wrong.

Stiles felt a hideously painful tearing at his heart on a Saturday afternoon and rushed back to Astoria, Oregon, the current home of the pack. He was told there was a gas explosion in the house, but Stiles knew that couldn't be the entire story.

Stiles pushed back his tears and took care of pack affairs. In the glove compartment of Ashton's car was a letter addressed to him.

***Letter***

_Stiles,_

_I can only begin to imagine what you're going through right now. I'm guessing sorrow is at the top of the list (It better be) but you've probably got some heavy guilt going on about not being here. _

_Stop it._

_We sent you away on purpose, Stiles. (You can stop reading & digest that)._

_This wasn't a random attack. We knew it was coming. There was an incident several years ago and revenge has been sought for a while. It quickly became aware that our pack wouldn't survive. So I suggested to the others that we send you away and they agreed._

_You're probably wondering why and I so wish I could be with you right now to be sure you understand what I'm about to tell you. We sent you away because this isn't your pack. Not really. I want you to know that we have never not considered you a member of our pack. I'm your Alpha (or at least I was, and I assume you realize that werewolf inheritance and the fact that you are a turned wolf in an adopted pack means that this has caused you to become an Omega, not an Alpha. I'm sorry about that.) Our betas were your pack mates. _

_But you've never really belonged to us. You've tried, so very hard. I don't know if you even knew anything was odd until now. _

_But you've always been a member of the Hale pack. I hinted once that your bond was strong. I know now that it wasn't the bond between you and the pack you belonged to as a human. You were mate. You never told any of us that and I suppose since no one ever tried to claim you as a mate that it didn't come up. But that bond is the kind of thing that can't be broken. And it doesn't take a ceremony to be forged._

_When we knew death was imminent, we couldn't risk you dying. We also couldn't risk a member of the Hale pack dying. _

_So we sent you away. I'm praying right now that you don't read this and feel alone again. We did this because we love you._

_I know you'll need time to grieve but when you're done grieving, go home, Stiles. Find your pack. Find your mate. Find home._

_I, and the pack, will always love you._

_Ashton._

_PS. If you bury me next to Zach, I will haunt you for the rest of your existence. _

***End Letter***

**(Note: This happens about 5 years after Stiles left for college.)**

He should have listened to Ashton's letter but after seeing so many of the people he loved be killed by others, revenge took a greater hold.

Stiles killed the pack that killed his with cold precision, stalking down each one. But the death of the Alpha had two effects. It didn't make Stiles an alpha. And it cleared his head, made him realize that he couldn't let his emotions control him. He'd seen what that did to a werewolf and unlike Peter, Stiles didn't know how to come back from the dead and that's where he'd end up if he kept going this way.

So instead he decided to keep traveling and offer his help to smaller packs that needed it.

**(Note: 4 months after Stiles moves past his need for blind revenge is when the next written scene happens.)**

Chris Argent was losing and losing fast. The rogue Alpha he'd been fighting was much more powerful than scouting reports had anticipated. The alpha had already dispatched the other three hunters he'd brought with him and was now stalking Chris.

If this had been anything like the Peter Hale case all those years ago, Argent wouldn't have been nearly as worried. But this alpha wasn't calculating. He had just been driven insane by something. Or someone. The how wasn't really the issue here. Even the few wolves Argent was in contact with, besides the Hale pack of course, had no issue with the hunters killing the rogue.

He had to wonder if the other wolves had known how dangerous this particular alpha was, or if they were just letting hunters do their dirty work.

But now the problem was that he was trying to scramble back to his feet while loading his gun with wolfsbane bullets and the alpha was so close, he could feel the heat from the wolf's breath.

Argent pulled it together and raised the gun, only to have it slapped out of his hands. He closed his eyes, waited for the killing blow…and kept waiting.

He opened his eyes to see another wolf snapping at the rogue Alpha. The new wolf had green eyes but they weren't bright like most werewolf eyes. These were darker, almost a matte and it threw Chris Argent off even more than the fact that a werewolf was defending a hunter.

The wolves threw each off and circled each other, searching for weaknesses.

Actually, from what Argent could see, the rogue Alpha was looking for weaknesses. The newcomer, whose green eyes should have marked him as an Omega, looked positively bored. If a wolf could look bored.

The movements were languid and relaxed and yet the wolf's eyes never missed a flicker of movement from the other alpha.

The rogue Alpha howled, in a tone that Argent recognized as a demand for submission from the Omega.

In response, the Omega didn't even blink. Instead he snarled, a low guttural sound that vibrated through the forest and shook the trees.

"What the fuck?" muttered Argent. Omegas never ever stood up to any Alpha, hell they rarely stood up to Betas, and now this one was challenging it. More than challenging. After a few decades as a hunter, you learn how to decipher different growls and snarls and howls in case they have more specific meaning.

The Omega's snarl was a very distinct display of dominance over the Alpha. And you just didn't do that.

His earlier expression of shock had caused the Alpha's attention to momentarily shift back to Argent.

That was all the opening the Omega needed. The wolf leaped at the Alpha and within seconds, the body was falling to the forest floor, while the head rolled a few feet away.

The Omega walked over to one of the fallen hunters and picked up a blanket from the backpack. He shook it out by allowing a single paw to transform back into a hand.

It had been quite some time since Argent had seen a wolf with that much control. He was getting very, very worried.

When the blanket was blocking most of the wolf's body, he transformed back into his human shape and proceeded to wrap the blanket around him like a towel.

"Argent," he said, in a tone that clearly expected no argument. "We need to talk."

Chris Argent thought he'd seen it all at this point. A precisely controlled Omega who could easily dominate an Alpha? That should have taken the cake. But he wasn't prepared to know the voice of the Omega in human form. And he sure as hell wasn't expecting to be staring into the face of Stiles Stilinski.

**Okay this part isn't even not!fic. Basically my plan was to turn Stiles into this really cool, but still a bit bloodthirsty werewolf. He'd be known as Vali (a play off the Vali in Norse mythology who has a mission of revenge) and is the actual person in charge of the Council's enforcers. Derek only knows of Vali, not that Vali is Stiles or anything about Stiles. Only Chris and Peter know the truth. **

**When Chris met Stiles in the woods after that fight, the enforcer part of the council didn't exist yet. It was hunters and werewolves who were taking turns dealing with problems. Stiles had been noticing this and so what he and Chris (and later Chris passes it on to Peter) is the need to have a crew of unattached wolves and hunters and a couple sparks who can enforce rulings of the Council. **

**Ultimately Stiles ends up in charge. He tries to offer it to someone else but it's obvious that he's the best person for the job. All those years of training as a human and studying with the pack mean that he knows an enemy better than most and looks beyond traditional ways to fight.**

**This is the one part I still have some inspiration for so I will probably at some point do a darker werewolf!Stiles story that really elaborates on this, so if that's something that interests you, it will happen one day.**

**Over the next few years, everyone lives their lives. Stiles and Derek still miss each other on certain days, but mostly they've repressed those feelings pretty well. If I'd been able to find the inspiration to write this entire story out, there'd be a couple scenes of serious angst from both Derek & Stiles over this. So at least you don't have to deal with that. J**

**Stiles also gathers a sort of pack among his enforcers, taking in omegas and giving them a purpose instead of waiting for them to become a problem. It shouldn't work but somehow he manages it.**

**Anyway, ten years have gone by and the Hale pack is strong. So when they're attacked by an east coast pack, victory is just as easy as they'd expect. Until the next morning finds Derek deathly ill. They take him to Deaton who, with Lydia's help, realizes there's some sort of magic in it that's cutting Derek off from the pack, turning him omega and that on top of his injuries from the battle are killing him. Deaton estimates that Derek has maybe 72 hours before he's gone unless they can break the spell. Chris and Allison stay with Derek, but the rest of the pack tries to track down the few members of the pack that they had let live.**

**Chris realizes that there may be one way to save Derek that no one else has thought of. So he leaves Allison with Derek and takes off.**

**_~Written scene: Takes place ten years after Stiles left Beacon Hills.~_**

Stiles slowly woke up to the pounding on his door. He could smell human, a faintly familiar human at that but that didn't really make any sense. Maybe it was someone from the security firm. He worked there on contract, as it gave him the necessary paperwork to travel freely about the country on his council duties. And he had the address registered. It was probably someone new, freaking out over a security contract and thinking they needed to consult him on it.

He would have been pissed they were waking him up but it was 2 in the afternoon. Still, Stiles turned his head back into the pillow and tried to block out the noise. His car wasn't out front so maybe if he didn't answer, they'd go find the next guy on the consulting list.

"Stilinski!" The banging continued and it was getting louder.

Stiles vaguely recognized the voice too but was still dismissing it as still from the security firm.

Then. "Vali! I know you're there."

Well that did it. If they were calling him Vali, that meant the council. He rolled out of bed and pulled a pair of jeans on as he walked to the door.

He was six feet away when the voice called out again.

"Damnit all to hell. Stiles! Open the fucking door before I kick it in."

Stiles knew that voice. That was Chris Argent's voice. What the fuck was Argent doing here? They stayed apart for very specific reasons. Met on neutral ground. There was protocol to be upheld and there was absolutely no reason for him to be breaking those rules. Not after all the work put into reestablishing the council.

Stiles threw open the door, thoroughly pissed. "Argent," he growled. "You had better have a damn good excuse for showing up at my house…"

Chris was breathing heavy, bags under his eyes. "Werewolves attacked…" he said panting.

"That's happened before," said Stiles. "It doesn't mean you stop protocol."

"No," said Chris, shaking his head. "They attacked…" He coughed. "Deaton said we had 48 hours…only 24 until it started…"

Stiles was still more than a little confused. Deaton was the official advisor to the council and had Stiles' private phone number. His mind tried to process the current list of known threats.

He was just sorting through the Seattle packs in his head when it happened. Stiles felt a yank on his heart. It was as though a grappling hook was locked in and twisted. He fell to his knees and groaned in pain, fangs and claws extending.

"Derek."

Argent nodded, finally having caught his breath. "They didn't think you should be hurt anymore, that you wouldn't want to go through it. They went after the attackers…came as fast as I could…"

"I don't care," interrupted Stiles, his lips curling back in a deadly snarl. "What. Happened?"

"There was an attack." Chris paused. "Derek's dying, Stiles."

Stiles howled.

The woods around them shook at the force.

And then Stiles was shifting and running as fast as he could towards the town he'd left behind.

**This is where part 2 would have ended.**

**~This is how part 3 would have started. Written scene~**

Scott came barreling into the house behind Jackson, the rest of the pack right behind them. Everyone was breathing heavily, having spent the last 4 days on a hunt for the wolves that attacked Derek. Chris and Allison had agreed to stay with Derek, insisting they would call if there was any change. It had seemed smartest. Even as a hunter, the wolves could track better.

They stood there for a minute, recovering, and trying to figure out who was going to go upstairs and be the first to see their alpha.

Between the stress and exhaustion and fear over knowing they were losing Derek, it wasn't really a surprise that they weren't as observant as normal.

Still, Danny couldn't help but notice one thing. "My head doesn't hurt," he said.

Jackson gaped at him. "You didn't tell me you hit your head."

Danny gave him a swift peck on the cheek. "Silly. I meant that lingering headache that never really goes away, the one we all have. It's not there anymore."

The other wolves took a moment to analyze their own bodies, realizing the same was true for all.

"Huh," said Scott, though his tone indicated he was happy about it.

"There has to be an explanation," determined Lydia. "We've been putting up with those headaches for years, they don't just disappear overnight."

As she spoke, Allison appeared in the doorway and a light that no one had seen in a very long time filled Isaac's eyes.

"Is…?" Isaac's voice was so very soft as he stared at Allison.

Allison nodded and didn't even try to hide her smile. "Upstairs."

"Derek's okay?" asked Erica, wondering how she and the others had missed the improvement in the Alpha's healing process.

"Better," whispered Allison, looking for all the world like she wanted to burst into tears.

She shifted to the side as Isaac flew up the stairs. The rest of the pack followed closely behind, at a complete loss as to why Isaac was so much happier than the rest of them.

Scott got to the doorway first and looked around. There was Derek, lying in the bed but looking like he was beginning to heal. Chris Argent was standing by the window, armed as usual in case of a renewed threat. And as expected, Isaac was wrapped around Stiles.

Stiles.

Scott's mouth dropped and he did a double take.

Isaac was hugging Stiles.

Stiles was here. In the pack home.

Stiles was home.

He was bigger and older and there was an edge of darkness to him now but he still wore those stupid graphic tees and he was sitting in the chair and hugging Isaac and staring at Scott.

It wasn't Scott's fault everything got super dusty all of a sudden.

And then Isaac was moving out of the way and Scott was holding on to his best friend and soon everyone else was hugging him and no one really seemed to need to say anything at all.

Stiles helped Derek hobble down the stairs and seated him in what was clearly his usual chair for pack meetings. The Alpha was healing well but it was still going to be a couple more days before he was at his best. They'd agreed however that the pack needed to be informed of the details of who Stiles was and how to proceed against the pack that attacked Derek. Stiles still wasn't sure how exactly to inform them of his situation either. They all knew he was a werewolf, had for some time and of course they knew that because he hadn't taken the Alpha title when his pack was killed that he was an Omega. It was all the other stuff that he was worried about.

He shouldn't have bothered. The minute Stiles turned around and faced everyone, allowing those pack members who hadn't met him before to see him, one of about 23 went flying backwards over the couch.

The wolf, whom Stiles was pretty sure was named Josh, shook in fear against the window while everyone turned and gaped at him.

Stiles sighed. "It's Josh, right? So I take it we've met."

Derek had been watching Stiles but now he too turned to give a sharp look at his beta. "You know Stiles?" he growled, waiting for a decent explanation.

"That's not Stiles," stammered Josh.

"Dude, I've known the guy since pre-school," retorted Jackson. "Trust me, that's Stiles. Sure he finally figured out how to put on some muscle…"

Stiles rolled his eyes at Jackson.

"But it's definitely the same guy."

"You said Stiles was just an Omega," insisted Josh. He was still pressed up against the window but he'd stopped shaking.

"I am an Omega," clarified Stiles.

"They called you Vali," said Josh.

And now it was everyone's turn to stare at Stiles.

Scott found his voice first. "But Vali is a legend…"

"I'm not a legend, Scott," said Stiles, rolling his eyes again. Clearly they were about to get a lot of exercise.

"My dad said he watched you kill one of the fiercest Alphas he'd ever met and that you looked bored while doing it," said Allison, a bit of awe in her voice. Then her eyes glittered with a realization. "He knew!"

Stiles nodded. "Chris Argent has been my primary point of contact on the council."

"They say you can backhand a beta's head off in one swing," said one wolf.

Stiles laughed. "Uh no. I did meet a vampire once who can do that though. Serious badass."

"Vampires?" queried Erica.

"Yeah. But they're mostly east coast people. There was a problem in Portland a couple years ago but the situation was resolved," said Stiles, a feral grin on his face as he remembered that weekend. That had been fun.

Scott was still staring at Stiles like he had no idea who he was.

"Oh my god you guys this isn't a big deal," said Stiles hurriedly. "Okay yes, I sort of had a thing for revenge for a while and now I tend to do mercenary work and yes I'm not the Stiles who fell over everything and got in the way in high school but I'm still me. Just older."

"Well clearly some things never change," snipped Lydia, though she smiled at Stiles when she said it so he knew they were going to be okay.

"Is it true that you've formed your own pack out of other Omegas?" asked Isaac. He was currently sitting next to Allison, holding Allison and Scott's little girl on his lap. Isaac handed Tori back to Allison as he waited on Stiles' answer.

Stiles wasn't sure why Isaac was asking but he answered anyway. "Yes, Isaac. The Omegas are alone. They need me."

Isaac walked over to Stiles and threw his arms around him. "You took care of the broken ones," he said softly, even though he knew everyone could hear him. "Just like Derek."

Stiles pulled the wolf in close and hugged him. He'd missed Isaac so much. "I couldn't leave them alone," he replied.

Isaac nuzzled his neck for a minute and whispered in Stiles' ear, so low that only Derek would have been able to hear him and only at full Alpha strength. "I'm so proud of you."

Stiles responded by hugging Isaac even tighter and planting a kiss on the curly head. Isaac knew him so well. Both wolves let go about the same time and Isaac returned to the couch, stealing Sammy back from Allison.

Stiles shook his head to clear it and focus back on the issue at hand. "Okay now that we're caught up on me, can we get back to the bigger issue? Who is behind this pack that attacked you and why did they do it?"

**~End Written Scene~**

As Derek heals, the others research and train. Derek's been healed for a week when a visitor arrives.

**~Written Scene~**

There was a noise on the front lawn and every werewolf head perked up and sniffed. Derek snarled.

"That's a strange werewolf. Boyd, Josh, with me. Everyone else stay inside unless I call you."

Stiles walked to the door with Derek but he stood out of sight. He would be respectful of Derek's wishes for the moment.

The werewolf stood in the yard and threw a roll of paper to Derek. "This is from my Alpha. Your alliance with hunters and humans and coercion of other packs to your degrading ways will no longer be tolerated. I'm here as a representative but the rest will be here one week from today to rid this area of you and your filth."

"Your pack seems to be ill-informed," said Derek in answer. "The Hale pack is over 30 strong with powerful treaties. We are not a weak pack to be pushed aside for petty territorial gains."

"This is not about mere territory," hissed the intruder. "You allow your wolves to breed with human bitches. You make alliances with our enemies. And yes, you are weak. Of that we are certain."

Once upon a time there was a Derek who might have reacted badly to that. He was smarting at the insult to his pack, especially the bitch comment however, so to insure he stayed calm, he spoke quietly. "I need you."

No one needed to question what that meant, as Stiles opened the door again and stepped onto the porch. He stood silent next to Derek, intending only to be a show of support.

To say the shit hit the fan a split second later would be an understatement.

The werewolf turned white as a sheet. "What are you…?"

"Doing here?" finished Stiles. "Why? Can't your all powerful pack beat a legend?" He rolled his eyes at the formerly cocky little punk wolf.

The wolf's shock seemed to be overriding his filter though because he kept talking. "You aren't supposed to be here. We did everything right. He fucking planned forever. Years and years to make sure this didn't happen."

He was practically talking only to himself now, as though unaware the audience remained. Both Stiles and Derek were frowning and the other betas had come to join them on the porch.

The wolf rambled. "The attack on you and the decoy invasions weren't good enough, obviously we learned that, but you left after we killed the father. And then we killed you along with Alpha Ashton's pack…"

His words disappeared because Stiles was suddenly off the porch and holding him up in the air by his throat. "What the fuck did you just say about my father?"

The werewolf snarled at him. "It was so easy. Kill the human in a werewolf fight and of course Hale would guilt trip into the next century and you would leave him behind for letting your father die. It was the perfect plan."

Stiles roared at the wolf, claws shifting and fangs extending. "My father was killed for a plan?! And my pack?! They were killed for revenge."

"We set them up. Had a wolf attack one of theirs on a suicide mission so they'd expect retaliation someday. Had to have a plan in place in case you met up with them at Berkeley. Thought of everything."

Stiles' voice was deadly and behind him, not a soul moved to aid or interrupt. If anything, the Hale pack was certain that for the first time they were seeing Vali, the legend in front of them, not the Stiles they knew. "Why?"

"I don't look up to you," snapped the werewolf. "And I sure as hell don't answer to you."

Stiles moved with lightning speed. He let go of the wolf's throat as he twisted him in midair and caught his foot. Stiles never hesitated as he bit into the werewolf's kneecap, crunching into bone and flesh and spitting it out next to him. A second later he switched legs and did the same thing before flipping the wolf back upright and setting him on the ground.

"Now you do look up to me," he said over the screams of agony.

"These will heal in seconds and then I will kill you," yelled the werewolf.

Stiles grinned, that old creepy smile that scared the shit out of anyone who saw it. "Alpha wounds don't heal that quickly." At the surprised look on the other's face, his smile widened. "Guess your research wasn't kept up to date. Now tell me why. I will not ask again."

The werewolf stammered out a reply. "Whoever controls Hale territory controls the Western half of the country. My Alpha knows this. But you and Hale would have been unbeatable if the bond had been formed. So he worked out a plan to separate you forever, preying on weaknesses and faults. Without you, Derek Hale is nothing. We had word you were dead four months ago, that's why it was time to move forward with the final plan."

"Who is your Alpha?" growled Stiles.

"Fuck you," came the answer.

Stiles tilted his head downward and placed a hand on the side of the werewolf's face. The claw on his thumb gouged into the eyeball. When the howl of pain stopped, Stiles spoke again. "Name your Alpha."

"No," spat the wolf.

Stiles removed his hand and picked up the wolf's hand. He ripped the claws out of fingers one at a time. "I can do this all day," he said calmly, as though he was sipping lemonade.

After the third claw, the werewolf gave up. "Nicolas. Of Boston."

He heaved a sigh of relief as his hand was released. It was the last sound he would ever make. Stiles tore his head off and left the pieces on the ground as he walked back up to Derek, wiping his hands on his jeans.

"We need a plan," said Stiles.

The others followed him back into the house, their worry and concern almost choking the air around him.

Stiles understood that and knew he would need the pack's comfort. But for now he needed to focus on a bigger picture. He could fall apart later.

**~End Written Scene~**

When Peter was doing research way back when (just after the alpha pack fiasco), he mentioned Derek & Stiles would hopefully get their act together by the time he got back, though he just said it offhand. The leader of the east coast council sent a couple wolves to spy and they realized that Derek & Stiles were a much stronger mated pair than most. Derek wasn't as familiar with the idea of mates so he couldn't know but their scent said they were already bonded, they didn't ever actually need the ceremony. That was why the pack had the permanent headaches during the separation. The bond was that strong even apart.

The fear from the east coast was that with that kind of bond, the kind that got others to trust them meant that they were a threat. So the spies watched for weaknesses and determined that if they picked a fight, focusing as though they were waging a territory war, then injured a few completely innocent humans, they'd get John involved. And so during the first part of the battle, they don't even acknowledge John's presence, to keep the idea that the focus is on territory and ownership. But the plan was always to kill John. Derek's guilt over his parents would transfer to guilt over not protecting Stiles' last relative and he'd cut Stiles off. They could tell that while Derek had the ancestry, Stiles was the strength. They had to get rid of Stiles in a way that wouldn't give Derek any purpose of revenge.

And they were successful in that but Derek didn't weaken. His pack was too bonded and they grew stronger. All the small acts of sabotage didn't do any good either.

So this pack who ruled the east coast went after Stiles' new Berkeley pack, intending to kill Stiles as well. The wolves involved in that part of the attack didn't know Stiles though, so they thought he'd died with his pack. And since after that he was known as Vali, the truth never came out.

Nicolas got desperate finally, figured he'd deal with any Council fallback (most East coast packs weren't part of the Council and many owed allegiance to him) so he found a witch to work the magic of the Hale land against Derek, separating him from his pack and insuring injuries would kill him. Of course, no one counted on Stiles.

Now it's war and the Hale pack is determined to end this once and for all.

**~Written Scene~**

As they talked and strategized, Stiles marveled at the way things had changed. The people he knew had been loving, welcoming towards him at first and he'd been so caught up in taking care of Derek that he'd missed the subtle changes.

Scott seemed stronger, more content, and he'd ably stepped into the role of council liaison, discussing werewolf needs with the hunters. Scott wasn't allowed on the actual council, being a beta, but he still had that natural ability to make people trust him. Stiles knew it had worked well in theory but it was interesting to see it in action here.

Derek's original three betas, Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were clearly elevated to a status above the others. The wolves that Stiles didn't know were extremely deferential. Jackson and Danny were outside patrolling so he couldn't judge on their status.

Lydia and Peter were sitting together, taking furiously detailed notes and pausing every so often to flip to another point of reference.

**~End Written Scene~**

The battle isn't easy. The pack children are sent away with Melissa McCall, up to Portland where they'll be safe.

Derek and Stiles both call in support from the council and any other alliances.

They create a plan and Lydia uses runes to enhance the pack's strength based on the power of the Hale land and they win this war that none of them wanted.

But it's not without consequences. Not without loss. There are multiple injuries that take time to heal and far too much cleanup that requires bringing several member of the Beacon Hills police force and hospital staff in on the supernatural secret.

Of the Hale pack, two people were killed. The newer beta Josh. And Lydia, fierce and deadly and at Peter's side until the very end.

**~Written Scene~**

The pack meeting was a small and somber affair. It was the first one since they buried Lydia three weeks ago and no one really knows what to do next. There are things to be put in order and the council has to be informed of Derek's plans, as well as the fact that Stiles (Vali as they know him) is officially the Hale Alpha's mate.

But for now, they sat in the den, curled up against each other on couches and chairs and Derek can only keep from pacing the room because Stiles held his hand and grounded him.

It's not a memorial or a wake, not from a human sense or a wolf sense. Both of those have already happened.

There's just this overwhelming sense of incompleteness. Stiles had been trying to figure it out for days. The emptiness at the lack of Lydia makes sense. The woman who could still boss everyone around while barely lifting a finger isn't curled up in her preferred seat, leaning against Peter throughout pack events. Stiles always felt something precious lingered between those two.

With most of the pack, the mate bond showed in emotional ways but it also manifested itself in physical ways as well. The idea of splitting the two seemed impossible. Now, as he watched Peter stare blankly out the window, he realized how minimal their physical interaction was. Peter used to occasionally offer a hand or step behind Lydia in support and she occasionally leaned into him but there was never more.

Yet underneath it all was a bond that Stiles thought was sometimes stronger than even the one he and Derek shared. Each was an individual in their own right but somewhere along the years, they'd stopped being able to refer to one without the other.

Perhaps it was supposed to be that way. Lydia had after all been the one to bring Peter back from the dead all those years ago, triggering the bond in the first place. It seemed fate intended to cheat death.

And now Stiles couldn't help but feel like that bond was incomplete. Like they weren't finished with…something. He didn't know what.

Derek finally spoke. "I…I suppose we should decide who is going to report to The Council first."

Peter's eyes flickered with recognition. He moved, only slightly but enough to make Derek pause.

"Peter?"

The man stared at the faces of his pack, people who had hated him, feared him, distrusted him and then slowly but surely grown to love and accept him. He had a family again, perhaps a better one than he'd lost almost 20 years ago.

"I need to say goodbye," he said quietly.

"Goodbye?" asked Derek. "I don't understand."

Jackson thought he did. "You know she'd hate you for doing that? You don't get to check out on us because Lydia's gone, Peter. The easy way out isn't an option."

A few growls supported Jackson's statement when they realized what he meant.

Peter shook his head. "It's not like that. Not exactly."

"It's a choice," said Jackson firmly. "A choice to live or die and you're not allowed to make it just because she left you."

Stiles caught on to the truth first, and he finally understood why Derek had been so terrified of the bond when they were young. And he knew now what still felt incomplete. "But you made your choice a long time ago, didn't you Peter?"

Peter's eyes glanced up at Stiles and the look in them confirmed it. "The bond…I can feel it pulling at me, tugging me towards her. I have to go."

Derek understood as well. "When?"

"Soon," answered Peter. "It's stronger tonight and Lydia's voice is floating along the thread."

"I don't understand," said Scott and it was clear that he wasn't the only one.

"It's the mate bond," explained Stiles. "We're all aware that the stories say when one mate dies, the other soon follows."

"But there were never any examples of it. Every story of true mates, those who went through the full bond, died at the same time. There was no proof that one can't live without the other," protested Allison, who well remembered the research. "It was just a legend."

Derek gave her a soft but discerning look. "And yet we're a pack built on legends."

"Lydia!" Peter cried out suddenly and his eyes stared at something the others couldn't see for the briefest moment before he returned to them. "I need to say goodbye," he insisted again.

Stiles released Derek's hand and came to sit by Peter. "How?" he asked simply.

"Sit with me," requested Peter in a quiet voice, devoid of all the snark and attitude they'd all come to know and even love.

Stiles moved back to angle behind Peter slightly and wrapped his arm around the older man's shoulders. Derek came to sit on Peter's other side, and his hand gripped Stiles firmly behind Peter's head.

The rest of the pack joined them, all finding a way to touch Peter. They stayed in silence for nearly an hour.

Then Peter jerked slightly and his eyes flashed again at something unseen.

"Peter," whispered Stiles. "When you see Lydia again, tell her we love her."

Peter smiled, sweet and innocent and so much younger than his years. And then he gently slipped away.

They bury Peter next to Lydia and while on some days the loss seems overwhelming, it doesn't break them. And slowly they begin to heal.

"We're doing the ceremony," says Stiles suddenly as he and Derek are sitting on the porch. He'd told Erica to take the pack somewhere else for the day, though still keeping a watch on the area. He needed to talk to Derek.

Derek looked utterly bewildered. "What ceremony?"

"To establish that we're mates," said Stiles firmly.

"Stiles, I can't," said Derek. He looked devastated over it, like he knew his words would cause Stiles to leave all over again. "I won't risk you getting hurt again because of me."

Stiles laughed. If you could call it that. It was a cold, bitter laughter. "Seriously? You think you haven't hurt me, Derek?"

Derek's eyes pleaded with him, his face showing his agony.

"I hurt every single day without you, Derek," exclaimed Stiles. "I hurt going to sleep at night and staring at an open window knowing you're never going to walk through it. I hurt because no one has ever slammed my face into the steering wheel of the truck I currently drive and yes I get how stupid that sounds. I'm in pain because every single time I think about my dad I just want someone to take my hand and rub my back and whisper that it will pass."

Tears were streaming down both of their faces at this point.

"I hurt knowing that you became every bit the Alpha that I always knew you could be, even better and that you've made a home for everyone that I loved and I didn't get to see it happen," he continued. "But do you know what you didn't do? You didn't get my dad killed. You didn't cost me my family. There are people out there who did and believe me, the day will come when they pay for their sins, but they are not you."

He reached over and took Derek's jaw in his, turning the Alpha's face towards him. Stiles gently used his other hand to brush away Derek's tears.

"I've spent a decade thinking that I had to let you choose your own life," he choked out. "Thinking that if you didn't trust yourself, I couldn't fix that."

"Stiles, you can't fix me…" began Derek.

"BULLSHIT!"

Derek stopped and stared at Stiles. He'd never heard him so angry. Ever.

"I can fix you," continued Stiles. "And you can fix yourself but you're never going to fully get there without me. And I'm never going to be whole again without you. So no, you don't get to make the decision this time around. You're mine. My mate and I'm yours and I'm not leaving anymore. You don't get to leave either."

"I almost died, Stiles," said Derek. "If we were mates…"

"We are mates."

"If we went through the bonding ceremony," corrected Derek, "you would have died too. Why would you want to risk that?"

Stiles sighed. "You do realize that I was the only person who could save you? That you were dying and needed me to bring you back?"

"We can't count on something like that every time."

"No, we can't," agreed Stiles. "But do you know what else happened? I came home. I stopped listening to your stubborn voice in my head, the one that twisted itself into thinking you didn't love me. All of the things that have happened in our lives: Isaac moving forward past his childhood, Danny & Jackson getting married, Erica & Boyd having twins, Allison & Scott's baby girl, and I never once came home. Because I was an idiot."

Derek stopped him. "You weren't an idiot, Stiles. I pushed you away."

"Yeah you did. Then you got hurt and I felt it. I thought I knew what having my heart broken felt like all those years ago." Stiles voice was strong, sure. "But that moment when you were sick, I felt that. It felt like someone literally reached into my soul and started tearing away chunks. And I came home. Because even without being bound officially, I'm still bound to you."

Stiles moved his hand so it rested against Derek's cheek. "I love you, Derek. I have always loved you, I will always love you, and you're just going to have to accept that."

Derek stared at Stiles for a long moment. Both wolves could hear Derek's heart racing just as Stiles' heartbeat stayed perfectly steady. After what seemed forever, Derek pulled away from Stiles' hand and stood up. He turned wordlessly and walked into the house.

Stiles burst into tears but he didn't leave the porch. He was done leaving. And if that stupid Alpha needed more time to figure out then fine. But they were damn well going to play by his rules now. Even if Derek took his broken heart and smashed it into pieces.

A few minutes later, Derek came back out of the house with a small cedar box in his hands. Stiles turned to look at him, bewildered, and Derek sat back down in his chair. He scooted closer to Stiles, so their knees were touching. Derek reached forward and took hold of Stiles' hands.

"I love you too," he said quietly.

Stiles smiled. "What's in the box? Don't tell me you've secretly had a ring all these years because you know I don't do diamonds."

Derek grinned and wow if that still couldn't melt Stiles' heart.

"It's something your dad left me," he said, pulling one hand away from Stiles to grab the box again.

"My dad left you something?" asked Stiles, puzzled. "Like after he died?"

Derek shook his head. "He gave it to me before."

"John told me a story," explained Derek. "He told me that he could see that I loved you and that I trusted you more than anything but that he could tell I didn't trust myself. He said that while most dads would be happy that their son's boyfriend was overly cautious, he wasn't most dads."

"He certainly wasn't," sniffed Stiles through his tears. Was Derek trying to kill him with emotions?

Derek continued. "John said that we were like a puzzle. That all the best romances are. Full of pieces that shouldn't really fit together but somehow make sense. And I remember him saying that most of the time, we can put our own puzzle together but it'll just be colors and shapes, nothing…"

"Nothing to find the details in the background," finished Stiles. He knew how his dad told this story.

Derek smiled, one of those slow smiles that lit Stiles up on the inside. "Yeah. I said that you didn't need me to bring out the best in you."

"I bet he agreed with you."

"He did. But he told me you still needed me. That you weren't quite finished without me and more importantly that I needed you. And then he gave me this box and said I'd know when to give it to you."

"But you didn't?" questioned Stiles.

"I hadn't looked inside," admitted Derek. "I pretty much ran to find you. I didn't want to wait any longer to make sure you knew I loved you." He was quiet for a minute. "And then everything went to hell and I forgot about the box and didn't actually get a chance to open it until you'd left. I figured it was too late to ever matter."

He handed Stiles the box, who opened it to find a handful of puzzle pieces.

Stiles laughed. "Really Dad?"

Derek grinned.

"You didn't get rid of them?" asked Stiles, realizing what it meant that Derek still had the pieces.

"I thought it was too late," replied Derek. "But I guess my heart was smarter than me because I never could figure out how to throw out the box."

"I'm glad you didn't." Stiles closed the lid to the box and set it on the railing of the porch, taking Derek's hands again. He'd tell him the other part of that story later.

Stiles leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Derek's lips. "I missed you."

Derek's grip tightened, keeping Stiles from moving back so he could kiss him again. "I missed you more."

Derek tugged on Stiles' hands, pulling him into his lap. "I missed feeling you next to me."

Stiles reached around and ran his fingers through Derek's hair. He tilted his face upward and stared deep into Derek's eyes.

The Alpha responded by touching his lips to Stiles' again, still kissing softly, not asking too much.

Stiles kissed back, a hint more pressure in his lips. Then he curled his head down and kissed Derek's neck, licking and biting him just enough to insure Stiles' scent would stay on the wolf. "Can we just stay like this?" he whispered softly.

Derek's heart did a little pitter patter, a sound neither of them had heard in years. He leaned his head against Stiles. "Forever."

* * *

**And that's where it would have ended. Considering how insanely long this is, y'all can probably tell just how much more there was to write. Thank you again for being understanding and hopefully this isn't too disappointing. **

**If I left things too confusing at any point, please ask in the comments and I'll be sure to answer.**


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